Back to Gravity Falls: Beware the Beast (multi-verse crossover)
by deathbyinsomnia
Summary: [Gravity Falls/ParaNorman/Over the Garden Wall/Coraline crossover] It's been years since Mabel and Dipper have been to Gravity Falls. This time, though, the threat is one unafraid of the corpses it leaves in its wake. ((Has romances but is not main plot-carrier.)) -I didn't label it as a crossover for fear no one would find it-
1. Where We Lay Our Scene

_._

 _._

 _Full chapter title: In Fair California, Where We Lay Our Scene_

* * *

Dipper sat at his computer desk with a pencil in his mouth, chewing on the eraser. He'd written the list for all he needed for summer vacation in Gravity Falls. In fact, he'd written the list a dozen times already. After each one, he felt dissatisfied and would throw it away. His trash bin was filled to the brim with a final paper ball when Mabel strode into the room, all smiles.

"Dipper! Stop writing the list and pack, already! We leave tomorrow!" She grinned, flopping stomach-first onto his bed. "I'm glad we finally get to go back. Between the whole coming back, Gruncle Ford reappearing, and summer homework thing, we haven't had any time to go back these past summers."

Dipper nodded absently, grunting to himself then wadding up the paper he was writing on and throwing it into the waste basket. The paper bounced off and landed halfway across the room. Dipper sighed.

He's stayed in fairly constant contact with his friends in Gravity Falls, but with the spotty internet there, skyping was far from an option on their end. He'd gotten pretty close (sort of?) with Robbie over the years, seeing as he now understood why he acted the way he did. Teen angst and all that. Wendy and Soos were still close with him too, but other than them and the occasional letter from his Gruncles, he didn't have any people close to him or that talked to him. Minus his twin sister, _she doesn't count,_ he told himself.

Mabel frowned. She still was not entirely used to the feeling of her braces being off even though it had already been two weeks since their removal. She licked across her teeth, half-expecting metal brackets. "Why are you not excited right now, Dipper? We get to see Gruncle Stan and Gruncle Ford and our friends but you are so down in the dumpy-dumps."

Dipper exhaled sharply, "That's just _it_ , Mabel. They are my friends, but they're my _only_ friends."

"Dipper..."

"When we started high school, I thought things would be different. That _we_ would be different, but here we are- exactly the same. I stay up all night studying for tests, you listen to music and don't even study. You get better grades than me. You make friends, and I stay the loner loser who doodles like an idiot in the front of my classes."

Mabel's tone turned sympathetic, "Dipper..." She stayed quiet for several seconds before leaning forward to him, wrapping her arm around his shoulders and setting her head on his shoulder. "I get that it's hard, believe me, but not everyone is like you, Dip. No one could really understand all we went through, that's why it's easier to avoid the topic. Plus," she smiled, trying to cheer him up. "If anyone here found out about us saving the universe, there would be so much paparazzi following us around that we'd have to spend all our fortune on disguises."

Dipper smiled a little, appreciatively. "We'd have to dress Waddles up too."

"You're right!" Mabel's eyes grew wide and excited, listing off possible disguises for Waddles, her pet pig.

Dipper started writing another list, a remark to his sister's antics here and there, but overall feeling a little better. Reaching the end of the list, he realized he had pretty much everything he needed for the trip except for a clean journal. Since his days in Gravity Falls, he documented his life thoroughly through journals on the off-chance they may be helpful someday. Especially if, in his aging years, he would begin to forget the life that meant so much to him. He doubted it, but he still liked the thought of writing it all down. Maybe he'd be famous, and the journals would become best-sellers, he reasoned.

"Hey, Mabel?" Dipper asked, his sister stopping her train of thought and focusing on Dipper.

"Yeah, Dippy Fresh?"

"Oh god, spare me," Dipper laughed. "Don't remind me of that nightmare. I'm gonna head down to the book store and get a new journal for the summer. Want to come along?"

Mabel shook her head, "I am finishing the sweaters I'm knitting for our friends when we get back there. Do you want one, Dipper?"

Dipper nodded, "If it's not too much trouble. Can you make one with the pine tree on it? Like the hat I gave to Wendy?"

Mabel grinned, "You know that I can knit faster than anyone you know! I can knit a sweater in 3 hours! Besides, I thought you were over her."

"I just really loved that hat," he smiles, pulling a duffel bag from his closet.

"I remember," she laughed. "But you never wore Wendy's after we got back to California."

"Well, it's California, and hot all the time. It's a fur-lined hat, Mabel." Dipper pointed out, rolling up each individual shirt and pair of pants to fit more in the bag.

"Touché. Are you walking to the book store?"

"Yep."

"Well, make sure you tell Slappy I said hi."

"I am not telling the Puppet Burger mascot you said hi, that thing gives me the creeps."

"Fine, Dipper." Mabel pouted, "Well, off I go. You should leave soon if you want to get there before they close."

Dipper checked his Bigfoot watch and stopped packing immediately, grabbing his wallet and red baseball cap.

"Thanks, Mabel. Be back in an hour!"

"You better! We have to be at the bus station by 9 am and it is an hour's walk to the bus station! Mom and Dad can't drive us so we have to walk!" She yelled behind him, grinning.

Mabel returned to her room, getting out a large ball of blue yarn and a smaller ball of white yarn to start on Dipper's sweater.

 _..._

Dipper made his way to the bookstore and greeted the man behind the desk like he always did when he came in. He followed his familiar path to the back of the store, where he heard someone talking in a one-sided conversation.

"Well, I don't know what to tell you, Freida. I don't know anyone here, I _just_ moved here. How would I know where you're buri-"

Dipper came into the boy's view and his eyes flew wide. The boy pretended he had just snapped his phone shut.

"Sorry, forgot about the no talking thing." the boy muttered.

The teen's hair spiked wildly off his head, ears large and dark circles under his eyes. He shoved his hands in his hoodie pockets, the red material stamped with the face of a zombie wearing off from the thread.

"That's libraries, not so much in book stores. Mostly because you're buying something, different environment."

"Wait, do you go to the high school a couple blocks over?" The boy asked.

"Yeah, my name is-"

"Dipper, right? That's what everyone calls you."

"Everyone?"

"Well, the teacher when they call your name."

"You just moved here last month, right?"

"Yeah. I'm Norman."

There was a short silence between them as Dipper looked through the shelves to find a leather-bound journal similar to his other ones. He usually had to get a new journal at the turn of every season, so the owner noticed the pattern and tended to make sure at least one was always stocked during that time. He used what little allowance he had every month to pay for said journals.

Norman watched Dipper curiously, it had been very obvious that Norman had been more or less talking to the air (in the form of a spirit named Freida who wanted to be properly buried but didn't know exactly where she was stashed), and yet Dipper pretended like he hadn't heard anything.

"So, Dipper," Norman started, trying to find something to start a conversation. He had noticed Dipper was a bit of a loner, like himself, so he figured they may somehow bond over that. "Why are you back here? No one ever really comes back here except me."

"You come here often?" Dipper asked idly, finally finding a leather-bound journal and opening it to make sure it was the right one. That one had the wrong page color, he liked cream pages instead of white. Mabel thought his page color preference was dumb, but Dipper didn't care too much about his quirks.

"Every day, except Sunday- since it's closed on Sundays. You seem to know what you're looking for. A, uh," Norman glanced over, "leather journal? What's it for, if you don't mind me asking?"

"Just to write in, I guess, talk about my day." Dipper answers, looking over at the boy a few inches shorter than him (if you ignored the height of his hair).

"That's cool. I come here to read."

"Read what?" Dipper asked, interested, finding the correct journal and holding it against his hip.

"Zombie stories mostly, sometimes old penny dreadfuls if I can find them."

Dipper saw a spark of excitement in Norman's eyes at the question. He saw Norman around, he was in almost all of his classes. Except Dipper took creative writing and Norman took... something. Dipper figured they had hit it off enough he could ask without seeming desperate to talk, he was just curious.

"You're in all but one of my classes. I take creative writing that period, what do you take?"

"Amateur film-making," Norman smiled, looking a bit sheepish. "I wanna be a director."

"That's cool that you know what you want to do. I don't really know what I want to do. Something in research, maybe."

"Well I heard there's a folklore and mythology major at Harvard, is that something you'd be into?" Norman asked, he was trying to gauge how possible it was to be able to talk with Dipper. The guy seemed easy-going enough, and gave off a vibe of maturity, so Norman thought this inkling may be a hint as to whether or not they could find some common ground.

Dipper grinned, "Really? That's a thing? That sounds amazing."

"If I was smart enough to get into Harvard it would be an awesome thing to do, if I was a bit less into film, that is." Norman laughed awkwardly.

Dipper smiled, "I should go pay for this before they close. Maybe I'll see you around?"

Norman's heart sank a little, he hoped they could talk more. "Yeah, sure."

"If you see me, make sure to pull me aside, okay? You seem really cool to talk to."

"It won't be during the summer, if anything," Norman admitted, smiling. "I'm going to my cousins' house for the summer, gonna stay with him."

"I'll be out of town too. I'll be hanging with my great uncles and some friends around there."

"See you when the new school year starts then?" Norman offered.

"Yeah," Dipper beamed, "if we have any classes together we should share a table. Plus, there's always lunch."

"Okay, see ya, Dipper."

"See ya... Norm? Or do you prefer Norman?"

"Whichever is fine," Norman shrugged, waving once before making his way out of the book store.

Dipper took his wallet from his front jeans pocket and walked to the desk to pay for his journal. The man smiled politely, waving as Dipper left.

 _...A Passing of Time..._

Once Dipper got home, he set his keys on the hook in the kitchen.

"Mom? Dad?" Dipper called, then noticing a note on the counter, he picked it up and read it aloud. "Dad has to work late tonight and I have to go to a charity function for work. There's money on the counter if you want to grab food. If not, split it between the two of you and keep it. I'm sorry, kids. Maybe we can have family dinner when you get back."

Dipper picked up the two twenty dollar bills from the counter, glancing at the clock on the wall. 7 pm. He'd been gone two hours rather than one. "And buy what? Dinner at the Olive Garden? Gees," he muttered, shoving the money in his pocket. "Maybe Mabel will want take-out."

Dipper opened Mabel's bedroom door to find her asleep on her bed, a finished sweater curled in her arms. Dipper smiled, "You work too hard. You didn't have to rush so fast." He pulled a fleece blanket from her closet and stretched it across her body.

Slinking his way through the door, leaving her door open, he made his way down the stairs quietly. Going into the kitchen, he opened the fridge, then the pantry and sighed.

"Looks like we have to work with what we have. It wouldn't be smart to go out for groceries at this time of night when mom and dad took their cars." Dipper muttered to himself, settling on making whatever he could manage.

 _...A Passing of Time..._

Mabel woke up with the smell of food cooking downstairs, and yawned as she sat at the table in the kitchen. "Mom and dad out again?" she asked.

Dipper nodded, "Sorry, I came home too late to get groceries. I have to work with what we have, sis. I hope it's okay."

"You cook pretty good without many options, Dip. It'll be fine," she yawned again, smiling. "Did you see your sweater?"

"It's great," Dipper grinned, "thank you."

"No, thank you." Mabel insisted, her voice getting a little more bored. "Why are they gone this time?"

"Mom's at a charity function, dad's at work."

"Did they say what for?"

"There was a note. It's on the counter if you want to read it." Dipper responded, pouring the noodles from the pan into a colander.

"Oh." Mabel muttered, not bothering to read the familiar wording of every note they received.

"Anyway, I met this guy at the book store. We talked a bit, which is why I ran late." Dipper noted, trying to veer away from the topic of their parents.

He grabbed a potato, ran it under the tap in the sink, and began peeling it carefully, trying to remember all the bits and pieces of cooking tips he's heard and observed over the years. He finished the potato and started to chop the potato into small chunks, then once he finished he started on another potato.

"Mabel, can you open two cans of chicken, a can of green beans, and a can of corn from the pantry?"

Mabel nodded, getting the cans and using the can opener on them, "What's on the menu, Chef Dipper?"

"Not entirely sure yet," Dipper admitted with a laugh. "Kinda following my gut here. Can you grab all the meat sauces from the pantry and fridge? Like A1, that beef flavoring sauce, those kinds of things."

"On... chicken?" Mabel sounded hesitant.

"And get some lemon juice too."

"Okay," Mabel laughed, "I'll follow Chef's orders."

Once all the cans were opened, and she brought the sauces and lemon juice to him, he smiled. "Perfect. Mind draining the cans?"

Mabel smiled, she loved when her brother got happy like this. Nowadays, it always seemed like he'd put on a brave face. Now he genuinely looked content. "Of course, lovely twin of mine!"

Once everything was done, Mabel stood behind Dipper to watch what he'd do. He took ramen noodles from the colander and put them in a large bowl and added the chicken to it, putting lemon juice and sauces here and there. He put the two chicken-flavored spice packets back in the pantry for Mabel to add extra flavor to hers in the future.

Then, he poured the potato cubes, green beans, and corn all in one bowl and added butter, salt, and pepper to the bowl and put it in the microwave. After everything in that melted, he mixed everything around in the separate bowls and set them both on the counter closest to Mabel's chair at the table.

"This should cover enough food groups," Dipper laughed.

Mabel's mouth watered as she jumped up, "Man that looks great, Dipper! Let's split it in half and dig in!"

Dipper smiled, grabbing glass plates and handing one of them to Mabel as he watched her spoon half of each bowl onto her plate. He genuinely loved his sister, especially in moments like these. They sat across from each other at the table, and a pleasant silence settled as they ate.

"Hey, Mabel?"

"Mhm?" Mabel answered, her mouth full.

"When did mom and dad stop?"

"Stop what, Dipper?" Mabel asked, a bit taken aback.

"Stop being our parents. Was it just one morning they stopped being there for us, or did it happen over time? Because, honestly, I can't remember." Dipper muttered bitterly, setting down his fork.

"Dipper, that doesn't really matter right now. We can take care of ourselves as long as they pay bills. Be grateful they don't make us pay for everything or get jobs yet, as some parents do." Mabel offered, sighing. "I know you're mad because they haven't been around like they should lately. I get it, Dip, but... they're trying."

Dipper looked at his sister and sighed. Even if his parents weren't trying to be there for them, he thought, Mabel was right about not being forced to pay for anything. He picked his fork up and went back to eating. They ate the rest of dinner in silence.

 _~~~A Change In Perspective~~~_

Norman checked his watch as he walked home in the dark. 8 pm. He flipped open his phone and called his dad's cell phone. After no one answered, the answering machine picked up the call. "I'm on the way home now, hope you guys are having fun in Toronto. I'll call you guys before I leave tomorrow. Bye."

The thought of the empty house at the end of the street made him deflate. His sister would be coming home from college all summer to watch the house while he was more or less agreeing to be shipped off so Courtney could be alone and not have to watch her little brother. It was unfair how highly they thought of Courtney, Norman argued, she may have been 'normal' but he could not control his gift.

A ghost of a pitbull trotted up beside him, a gash in his neck, and Norman sighed mournfully. "Poor dog." He petted the dog as it walked beside him, then watched it go its own way once Norman reached his own yard.

Opening up the door, he took off his sneakers and carried them in his hands. Opening his bedroom door, he took a look around. It didn't look that much different from his old room. This one, however, did have a noticeable difference. It was much smaller.

 _... Flashback Time ..._

"Houses in California are expensive," his dad explained on the day they were driving the U-Haul to the new house, "because you aren't paying for the houses. You're paying for the beach 10 miles away. In our old neighborhood, you could buy a house twice this size for the same amount."

"So why didn't we?" Norman asked, bothered he had to leave his only friends behind.

"Because your sister wants to go to college in California and family sticks together."

"You should make her pay for her own college," Norman huffed under his breath.

"After all we've gone through over the years, you'd think you'd get it by now. Family sticks together."

 _... Present Time ..._

"You'd think," Norman said mockingly to himself. "But I doubt you'd do the same for me."

Grabbing a bag of chips he'd left on his side table, he picked up his sketchbook and composition notebook and went back to working on concept sketches, camera angles, and a script he'd been working on. The alarm on his digital clock already set, prepared to wake him up in the morning. Eventually, he falls asleep against the wall, notebooks in his lap and pencil in hand.

* * *

 _A.N._

 _I actually make food like Dipper described all the time. The recipes, if you can call them that, are approved by me. Haha_

 _Anyway, sorry for the 'Absentee Parents' trope but seriously... the shows/movies all have them too xD Therefore, I don't feel so bad. There will be less absenteeism with the twins once they reach Gravity Falls. 'Cuz the Gruncles are the best._

 _Also, Slappy is a reference to Slappy from Goosebumps and Puppet Burger to Danny Phantom's Nasty Burger diner xD_


	2. The Dangling Conversation

.

.

Full chapter title: The Dangling Conversation (and Metaphorical Ice-Breaking)

* * *

The morning came none too quickly, the Pines twins taking their luggage (and themselves) to the bus stop. (After quickly checking on Waddles at the pet housing clinic, and Mabel promising to send Waddles postcards.) They got their tickets, the ticket guy pointing with a smile to a bus outside.

"You kids can go on ahead onto the bus, that bus isn't expected to have many passengers so it plans to leave a bit sooner than scheduled. Especially since the tickets have to be reserved beforehand to figure out what size bus to use."

Mabel smiled, "Thanks, Mr. Ticket Guy."

"You're welcome," the guy laughed, pointing again to the shortest bus in the lot outside.

The twins got on the bus, no one else seemingly aboard yet. Dipper set down his bag and walked to the driver who was staring blankly ahead.

"Sir? Where should we put our bags?" Dipper asked cordially.

The guy waved his hand in dismissal, "Keep 'em. There's only 5 people on this bus anyway."

"5?" Dipper asked, "The last time we came it was only us."

"Maybe it's gotten more popular. Maybe Gravity Falls got a theme park." The guy quipped, laughing at his own joke.

"Oh... kay." Dipper muttered, getting to the back of the bus with Mabel.

"We can keep our stuff. There'll be 5 people on the bus this time."

"5?" Mabel asked, "I wonder why."

"You could always ask," Dipper joked.

"I will!" Mabel grinned defiantly.

"Oh, god." Dipper laughed to himself.

 _... A Passing of Time ..._

Twenty minutes later, two kids who looked to be a bit younger than them came onto the bus. A boy with copper-brown skin, wild hair, and a noticeable slouch followed by a girl with bluish-black colored hair and a straight posture. The boy had on a long trench coat and heavy boots with fingerless gloves, the girl with a dark blue t-shirt and shorts with laced calf-boots on that looked pretty decent for hiking. They talked in hushed tones, the boy looking excited and the girl irritated.

"Hi!" Mabel yelled, making them both jump. "I'm Mabel! We're going to Gravity Falls too! What are you guys going for?"

"I'm Wybie, this is Coraline," the tan boy grinned, leaning out from the aisle seat. "Coraline is moving in with my grandma and I for a while, so I came to get her so she wouldn't have to ride the bus there alone. Her parents flew me out here."

"That explains why you don't have a big bag," Dipper commented. Dipper's eyes wandered to the bag that Coraline had set in the seat behind her, stuffed to the brim but still very small if it really had all of her things she owned in it.

"Yeah," Wybie muttered, "My grandma and I are living nearby relatives on my mom's side. If you guys see us, you should come hang with us."

"Absolutely!" Mabel yelled excitedly, "Coraline? Have you ever been to Gravity Falls before?"

Coraline shook her head, "No, but Wybie has lived there for a few months now."

"I think it's hiding something," Wybie grins, wiggling his fingers. "Something _spooky_."

Mabel and Dipper give each other a concealed look of amusement, Mabel turning to face him. "You have no idea."

"Last call for Gravity Falls!" Someone calls over the loud speaker inside the bus station.

Norman stumbles up the stairs, tripping and falling face-first. Once he lets out a quiet 'ouch', he hands his ticket to the driver and turns to the rest of the bus. Norman's eyes widen.

"Dipper?"

"Norman?"

"Well, this is awkward." The bus driver interjected, a poor attempt at a joke. "Anyway, get seated. We have to go now if we want to make it there before nightfall."

Norman sat in front of the bus, setting down his backpack and turning in his seat to face everyone. The driver started up the bus and pulled out of the lot, checking his watch before leaving through the exit gate.

"So, did I miss awkward introductions?" Norman asked with a nervous smile, eyes focused on Dipper and Mabel.

"Yeah, kinda." Wybie blurted. Coraline hit him on the arm in scolding.

"Hush, you. This is Wyborn, but everyone calls him Wybie." Coraline introduced, then pointing to herself. "I'm Coraline."

"Wyborn? Sounds Nordic." Norman commented, looking at the boy slouching in his chair.

Wybie smiled up at him, "It may be, I heard it means War Bear. Which, honestly, sounds strange to me."

"It's cool, though."

"Thanks."

Dipper moved to sit on his feet so he sat a little higher, "Norman, this is my twin sister Mabel."

"You're cute," Mabel blurted, unashamed.

Norman's face turned red, his pale skin making his blush extremely obvious, Norman pretended to scratch his face with his fingernail to hide his face. "T-thanks, I guess."

"She doesn't mean anything by it Norman, she just tends to not use the filter between her mouth and her brain."

"Well, you're not wrong." Mabel admitted, laughing at herself.

Coraline nudged Wybie in the side, "You seem to have the same problem, stalker-boy."

Wybie smiled in a wobbly, endeared way and curled himself against Coraline's side, his hug so tight that his face buried in her hair due to his slouch.

Coraline smiled sweetly with a whisper, rolling her eyes, "Wuss-puss."

"Should we leave you two alone?" Dipper joked clearing his throat, as he watched the couple with a mirth-drenched expression.

"You guys are so cute," Mabel cooed. "How long have you guys been together?"

"We met 3 years ago, when we were 11," Wybie muttered from where his face was buried in Coraline's hair. "I begged her last year until she relented. Took 2 weeks but I broke her."

Coraline laughed a little, "It was weird at first. I mean, I am not really a romantic person, but Wybie doesn't mind too much."

"Nope," Wybie agreed, "I'm more just overly affectionate than romantic. I mean, our first date was to find this poet guy's grave in the local cemetery."

"I ended up falling into a sinkhole," Coraline interjected, "broke my ankle. He drove me on his dirt bike all the way back to the apartments so his grandma could drive me to the hospital."

"Well, it could be worse," Norman added, "a zombie could've risen from the dead and chased you down."

"Aren't zombies slow, though?" Coraline asked, not entirely dismissing it as a joke like most people would have. The response came to Norman as a surprise.

"More or less. I mean, I guess there's levels of slow depending on injuries or degeneration of body tissue." Dipper interjected, looking to Norman for approval. "Right?"

Norman nodded absently, thinking to himself, _did Dipper actually believe in zombies or is he saying that because that's what movies usually say about zombies_?

There was a long silence for a while, everyone looking at each other every few seconds. Mabel broke the silence first. "Hey, guys. We should all get some sleep. It may be late before we get there, and if so, we should all be rested up."

Everyone gave absent-minded nods.

"I'll wake you guys up at every other town so we can go to the bathroom and stretch our legs, and fill up gas if the need arises." The bus driver announced. Everyone gave affirmative phrases in return.

It was going to be a long drive.

 _... A Passing of Time ..._

A while later, the man woke up Coraline and Norman before making his way off the bus and into the info building. Coraline woke up fully first, shaking Wybie gently. He woke up, slowly, and took Coraline's hand once they got off the bus.

Norman woke up fully, putting out his hand and tapping Mabel and Dipper on the shoulder. Dipper woke with a start, almost falling into the aisle. Norman laughed, walking down the aisle and off the bus. Dipper and Mabel followed shortly after. 20 minutes later, everyone stood around the kiosk waiting on the bus driver to return with bladders empty and gas station bags filled with road snacks and drinks.

"So..." Mabel started, directing her eyes toward Coraline. The boys all in a corner looking at strange souvenirs. "If you don't mind me asking, why are you going to live with Wybie?"

Coraline sighed morosely, "Well, the short of it is that my parents don't really have the time or money or ability to raise me lovingly anymore. I already talked to his grandma about living there months ago. Wybie doesn't really get that it's not a temporary arrangement. My folks write about plants for a living, if that says anything. I know they love me, deep down... but Wybie's grandma and practically everyone else I've met in the past 5 years have taken more care of me than they have. It's a difficult decision but I'll be unofficially in Ms. Lovat's care until I can move out on my own."

"That's rough," Mabel frowned, "I'm sorry for bringing it up."

"It's no secret," Coraline muttered, scuffing her boot against the laminate floor. "Once I get there, there will probably be a lot of questions. I have to be ready and comfortable to answer them."

"How mature of you," Mabel smiled sweetly.

"Really it's-"

"Round up, bus kids! Heading out!" The bus driver called, having taken his 30 minutes to top of the bus's gas at the gas station next door and to go inside to go to the bathroom, a bottle of water pinched between his fingers from the gas station.

Mabel moved to sit next to Wybie and Coraline on the bus, Coraline in the middle seat. Norman moved to sit with Dipper, sitting in the outer seat with Dipper on the inside seat.

"I never thought your cousin would be living in Gravity Falls." Dipper admitted.

"Well, he was a pretty small-town guy. Moving to an even smaller town was good, in his opinion. He isn't much a fan of gray area, he likes the predictability of small town life."

"Oh, I can understand that, but-" Dipper laughed. "He picked the wrong town if he wanted an uneventful life. Do you guys talk often?"

"I met him a couple times, 5 times at most, at family reunions. Last time I talked to him was a month ago. Out of the blue he called and invited me down for the summer. My sister wanted the house to herself, and I'm not the biggest fan of my sister, so I readily agreed. He's a nice guy, a bit of a worry-wart, though. Paranoid about everything. He wanted me over because he thought I would find the place... _interesting_ is the word he used, I think."

Norman had told his cousin about his experience with their grandma (or, rather, her ghost) years ago. In fact, he was one of the few people who believed him. He thought Norman had a gift, although he had made a point to agree it must be a tedious gift to have. He claimed to have a story of his own, but refused to tell it until Norman arrived.

"It's definitely interesting," Dipper consented, "my sister and I are staying at the Mystery Shack there. Our great uncles used to own the place, but now they travel a lot so they just stay there when they're in town. The Mystery Shack alone is 'interesting'." Dipper used air quotes around the word interesting.

"Interesting, how?"

"Well," Dipper started, wondering which story would be a good segue to the strangeness of Gravity Falls without scaring Norman. "It's something one should see for oneself." Dipper shrugged.

Norman grinned, rolling his eyes, "Tease."

"Trust me on this one," Dipper smiled.

Norman laughed, shaking his head, "Whatever you say, Dipper."

 _... A Passing of Time ..._

"Mabel, have you seen any weird things in Gravity Falls?" Wybie asked, interrupting Mabel and Coraline's conversation about Mabel's pig, Waddles.

"Plenty," Mabel answered seriously. "When I was there one summer, I thought my boyfriend was a zombie. Turned out to be some creepy gnomes."

Coraline giggled, then stopped, seeing the look on Mabel's face. "Seriously?"

"You're one to talk," Wybie muttered under his breath.

"Not just that. Plenty of strange things happen in Gravity Falls. Most people just don't pay enough attention anymore." Mabel said flatly. "You get used to it."

"Well, uh, I kind of had a dimension-crossing dilemma 3 years ago, so I'm not entirely surprised if anything else told as fables were true." Coraline admitted, "It was a witch. Or at least a type of witch. She went by the name Beldam, but I called her Other Mother. She cast spells to try to trap me with her forever to steal my soul, more or less."

"More or less?" Dipper interrupted, obviously having been eavesdropping. "How can it be more or less?"

"I don't know," Coraline shrugged, "it just seemed like the most passive way to say it in my head."

"So let me get this straight," Wybie smiled, his morbid sense of curiosity flaring up. "Coraline saved her family, future generations in the apartments, and released a few souls," His tone turned into a joking one, "I bet you twins saved all of a state."

Dipper sighed, "Well, since we're swapping stories and victories-" A proud expression crossed his features. "Mabel and I saved Gravity Falls."

"Not really," Mabel interrupted, "we saved this dimension."

"You do realize that's bragging even more, right?" Dipper rolled his eyes in amusement, everyone staring in confusion at the twins who seemed to be carrying on their own conversation.

"So what? Bill was awful. We _deserve_ credit for ending weird-mageddon."

Norman opened his phone, with no messages he sent his cousin a text that he was turning his phone off before shutting it down and sliding it in his bag.

"I. Am. So. Lost." Coraline muttered, rubbing her temples in pain.

Mabel patted her shoulder, "No worries. No one there talks about it. It's a law, actually, it's not supposed to be spoken about or written down... making Dipper a criminal since he described the whole thing in detail within his journals. He could show you, if he actually lets anyone read it, that is."

"It's private, Mabel!"

"He's got embarrassing stuff about Wendy in there, I bet." Mabel grinned conspiratorially, "He keeps all of the journals on him all day, every day in case he wants to check for any 'time anomalies'."

"What?" Dipper pouted, "With Time Baby gone, we can't be too careful."

"I'm with Coraline on this one," Norman interjected. "I'm super confused here. You're dropping events and names with zero context."

"Well, _I_ get it." Wybie smiled.

Coraline pulled his ear toward her mouth and whispered hisses in the ear, then causing Wybie to flush considerably and watch the ground intensely. The exchange assumed to be something along the lines of a scolding, yet again.

Norman looked at Dipper, who was studying him, then stared at the sleeve of his hoodie, pretending to scratch some-dried-something off from the fabric. The bus was silent, bordering unnerving, to Norman- causing the boy to scratch his nails against his jeans in his familiar anxious tick. He planned on waiting to tell Dipper about the ghosts when they were alone, so it would seem more sincere.

However, with all the stories flying around, he wondered if everyone was really telling the truth. They all seemed very "out-there", even by a Babcock's standards, so he found himself holding his tongue. There was bound to be a better time than that current moment, he assured himself.

Dipper forced his eyes away from Norman, feeling as though he was making the both of them uncomfortable. Dipper got his phone from his pocket and putting headphones in his ears, playing on a band he'd come to like recently, and closed his eyes in hopes that Norman would rouse him once he was ready to talk again.

Norman pulled a copy of _The Torture of Martyrs: We, the Self-Proclaimed Victims_ from his bag and scrunched his nose at it. He'd gotten the book from a his cousin the previous Christmas with a note insisting it was practically out of print and that he should feel lucky.

Norman did not feel so lucky, seeing a knife dug into what looked to be a pig carcass on the cover of said book. However, Norman insisted to at least give the book a try, especially since the relative swore up and down that the book was just Norman's speed. He'd run out of things to read and he wanted to at least attempt the book.

Norman put in headphones and turned on his small mp3 player, then opened the book to glance over the Introduction, a single sentence making up the entire positive space of the page:

 _These essays are not for the faint of philosophy, read on at the risk of enlightenment._

Norman let out a chortled laugh, the arrogance of the line catching his attention, opening to the first essay entitled _We As A People_. Norman fell silent as he read. Dipper began to doze off, his cheek resting on the headrest, facing Norman.

"So," Mabel continued, finally finding something to talk about after being floored by Norman and her brother during their silent exchange. "Wybie, Coraline, what do you guys want to do once you get settled in?"

"Well-hunting?" Wybie joked, pretending to hold dowsing rods in his hands.

"Hilarious, Wy," Coraline muttered, shaking her head. "What is this Weirdmageddon you were talking about?"

"Well," Mabel started, grinning, "I couldn't tell the entire story alone, I was in an alternate universe for a good part of it."

"Sounds exciting," Wybie laughed, earning an endeared eyeroll from Coraline. "What was it like?"

"There were fluffy clouds, hot boys, and unicorns. You know, what dreams are made of." Mabel laughed, glad to be able to lift it off from her chest- regardless if they believed her or not. However, Mabel found herself sure that these strangers on the bus, including Norman, all had their respective stories they were changed by.

A silence fell over the bus as Mabel moved to another bench to stretch across a row of seats to get a nap. Wybie wrapped his arms around Coraline's waist and smiled with adoring eyes, resting his head on her shoulder. Coraline scooted closer to him and rested her head on top of his and the couple soon fell asleep. Norman, however, stayed awake reading until the light began to fade. When the light was no longer sufficient enough to read, he put his book away and leaned his head on the seat in front of him, falling into a light sleep.

* * *

 _A.N._

 _The essay book Norman is reading is entirely fictional, oh god I wish it was real. I may end up writing it, honestly, if I can ever manage to get fanfic out of my system lol_

 _No official update schedule has been set yet, I'll figure it out once I figure out the average time it takes me to finish each chapter._


	3. The Hills Have Pines

.

.

Full title name:

The Hills Have Pines (and Other Assorted Greenery)

* * *

The bus driver arrived at Gravity Falls well after sunset, standing from his chair with a heave, he looked upon the sleeping teens. He hadn't planned on arriving this late, or glazing over the original plan of stopping every few towns for breaks, but the traffic had been hectic- even for the current time of year- and he'd been forced to make more pit stops and re-directions than planned. Fortunately, his passengers slept through the worst of it all. He walked to Mabel, who laid closest to him and shook her shoulder gently.

She woke easily, smiling, "Are we here?"

"We're here, kid. Gravity Falls. If you wake everyone up, I will take the bags outside for you all. I am sorry I can't take you guys to your places, but it's already so late." He smiled.

Mabel didn't know it, but she reminded the aging driver of his daughter, who was waiting at home. The similarity was especially close when Mabel yawned and stretched her arms above her head.

"You're very nice, sir. At worst, we can all stay at a friend's house for the night," Mabel told the man, thinking of Wendy and the woman's abnormal sleep schedule, before moving her bag to the seat for him to take.

Mabel whispered something quietly in Dipper's ear, causing him to wake with a screech.

"MABEL! YOU KNOW I HATE BREATHY WHISPERING!"

"Well, it worked, didn't it?" She smiled coyly, Norman waking with a jump and a sour expression at Dipper's screaming in his face.

Coraline woke up shortly after, whispering something to wake Wybie, earning a joking whine from him.

"Clingy," Coraline mouthed with a blush in Mabel's direction.

"Mr. Bus-Man has got most of our bags outside, so let's go." Mabel instructed, leading everyone off the bus.

"I thought he was driving us all the way," Coraline huffed, taking her purse off the ground as the bus went a side-road to loop back to the highway.

"It's really late, and he probably has a family to get home to," Wybie soothed, taking Coraline's luggage from the ground.

"We can stay at my cousins' for the night, probably," Norman offered. "He runs an inn-slash-bookstore off the corner of Fern Drive."

"That would be awesome," Dipper muttered after hefting his bag, yawning before glancing at the clock on his phone, "Seeing as it's almost 11."

"Wow, must have been some traffic." Mabel muttered to herself, yawning too.

"No kidding," Coraline rubbed the sleep from her eyes, "Even Wybie's grandma would be asleep by now. Either way, we should all get in contact before we get settled in case anyone is waiting up."

"Good point, and I have to call my cousin to make sure it'd be okay. No doubt he's watching some noir film at this time of night." Norman muttered to himself, calling his cousin.

...

Wirt picked up on the second ring, "Norman, you're really late, everything alright?"

"Yeah but me and a couple of other kids from the bus need a place for what's left of the night. We haven't really eaten and I'm guessing none of their respective caretakers are up this late." Norman replied, watching Coraline and Wybie share a phone and Dipper taking the reigns contacting the Mystery Shack.

"Good call, I could pick you all up in the book van if you want?" Wirt responded, the sound of hokey acting muffled through the receiver.

"If you wouldn't mind. We'd really appreciate it."

"How many of you?"

"Including me? Five."

"Gotcha, are you at the town line?"

"Right next to the sign."

"Be there in 10 minutes, Norman. Don't move."

"Wouldn't dare." Norman joked before hanging up.

Norman caught the last shred of each of their voicemails they were leaving. A polite Coraline saying she would be over as soon as she could, Wybie interrupting to tell his grandma he loved her before Coraline ended the call. Dipper being curt and explaining they were late but were staying with a friend and would be over in the morning, then the Pines boy hung up.

"My cousin will be here in a bit with the book van." Norman explained, causing Dipper to laugh.

"Like delivers-books-per-request, 'book van'?" Dipper questioned, excited.

"Yeah," Norman nodded, looking down the dimly-lit street for a van.

"You gotta get me his number," Dipper grinned.

"Nerd," Mabel coughed coyly, "Oops, did I say that out loud? Now I feel really bad. Bad Mabel!"

"Emperor's New Groove," Wybie whistled, "Nice."

Soon, a white van with "Book Mobile" spray-painted crudely on the side drove up beside the teens, rolling down it's driver-side window. A scraggly head of hair poked through the window, then followed by a face when the hair was moved from his eyes, smiling broadly.

"Hey! I'm Wirt. Hop in the back!"

Norman laughed, opening the back of the van and climbing inside, closing the door when everyone had gotten inside. The bookshelves were modified and adhered to the floor, locked shut with cabinet doors. The teens sat in the spaces between the two shelves, The twins and luggage on one side, Norman, Wybie, and Coraline on the other.

"I hope you realize how shady this situation is, Wirt." Norman laughed, having to support his shaking frame on Wybie to keep from falling over from laughter.

Everyone laughed along, including Wirt. Mostly because of the funny sound Norman made, snorting from laughing so hard.

"Whatever, Norm. Let's head to the inn, I have to put you all in Norman's room so you need to divvy up the bed, couch, and chairs." Wirt added, eyes glued to the road as he drove.

"Girls get the bed!" Mabel called, raising her hand.

"Damn," Wybie muttered, "guess I'm gonna put the two chairs together. I hope I don't have to hang my butt down between the chairs."

"We can sleep head-to-foot on the pull-out couch, Dipper." Norman suggested.

"I'd rather sleep back-to-back, Norman." Dipper laughed, "No offense to your feet, it's just that you really do not want to sleep next to mine."

"Alright," Norman agreed soundly.

...

After they all had a light dinner of bologna sandwiches and juice (but a bowl of baby carrots with an apple to suit Coraline's vegan diet), they all were as quiet as they could as they went up the steps and went into the biggest vacant room available, in the attic. They set their bags in a specific corner and immediately laid down, not bothering to change.

"Goodnight, Dipper!" Mabel stage-whispered.

"Goodnight, Mabel!" Dipper whispered back.

Everyone took their turn to join into the Pines twins' tradition and told each other goodnight, even though it was less than a half hour until midnight and they were all exhausted.

"Goodnight, Dipper..." Norman whispered.

"Goodnight, Norman..." Dipper whispered back, yawning.

With the cycle ended, everyone fell asleep.

...

When morning broke, Norman was the first to open his eyes. He was used to being bombarded with spirits at every waking moment, not waking up to one gave him a strange sense of relief. Being careful not to wake Dipper and the others, he pulled his hoodie from the floor and put it on as he made his way out of the door. He closed it painstakingly slow, the door whispering a small creak as it shut. Tip-toeing down the stairs, he found his cousins Wirt and Greg sitting at the table in the kitchen, eating oatmeal.

"Hey, Norman!" Greg said a tad too loudly, then lowered his voice with a smile. "Sorry. Hey, Norman."

"Greggy." Norman teased.

"Nooooo," Greg blushed, embarrassed, "Greggggg."

"Gregory, then." Norman continued, amused by his young cousin.

"You do this every time you see him, Norman." Wirt pointed out, shaking his head. "Still, he keeps falling for it."

"It's fun," Greg admits, finishing his oatmeal and putting the bowl in the sink. "I miss Norman."

"Well, I'm here now." Norman grinned, watching Greg move from the kitchen to the living room to turn on the tv.

"So, Wirt," Norman started, "How's business?"

"Good enough," Wirt exhaled, watching his half-brother in the other room. "The inn business is much better during the summer- it's the only time it gets packed, actually. Otherwise, most of the money comes from the book-selling."

"You never told me how you go about that."

"Well," Wirt took his attention from Greg to Norman. "I get donated books from people from Gravity Falls or I get books in bulk online at discount prices and re-sell them in the truck or online. The system isn't perfect, but we're doing alright here. My specialty here is that I can find rare books that are hard to find or are out of print. The price of living in Gravity Falls is surprisingly low. Everyone here is pretty self-sufficient. People here are more likely to trade services than to exchange cash, except for tourists, that is. Practically everyone here is willing to take every dime from tourists."

Greg had turned to greet someone staying at the inn with a hello. The couple smiled and exhaled a hello to Greg before continuing on their way. Greg watched cartoons absently, his eyes glued to the green alien yelling on the screen, its purple eyes squinting in irritation.

"How are things?" Norman asked vaguely.

"They're better," Wirt admitted. "It was really hard for both of us at first, me never even living alone before this happened and having to maintain a living this way has definitely been... difficult. He got enrolled in school, poor kid is really good at making friends but I think he's afraid to bring them home."

"Why would you think that?" Norman asked, watching Greg chuckle under his breath at a joke on the tv.

"He told me a while back that he didn't want to bother me." Wirt let out a shaky breath, "God, and to think I used to resent Greg. The kid's got a heart of gold and after what we went through-" He took a breath and calmed, Greg looking at him worriedly. "Greg is still the sweetest kid I know."

Norman nodded. Wirt had yet to tell him the full story, bits and pieces of vague hints and inklings over the times they've talked, but the only thing Norman knew for sure was that it still sets Wirt on edge, though four years had already passed. Norman understood, though, hard to escape a memory when there are shadows to remind him at every turn and even harder to share it with others.

Wirt noticed Norman drifting off, eyes growing distant. Wirt promptly rose from his chair.

"I don't usually make breakfast for people who stay," he smiled, trying to lighten Norman's spirits, "but for you, I will make an exception."

"Thanks," Norman mumbled, eyes watching Wirt's hands as he used his height to easily reach the box of oatmeal on a top shelf.

"Hey, Wirt?" Norman started, catching Wirt's full attention as the man was putting a pot of water on the stove.

"Yeah?"

"I didn't encounter any ghosts in the house. Usually I'm bombarded if I've stayed in one place this long." Norman remembered a ghost of a rat on the bus, but other than that, he hadn't encountered any since the day at the bookstore with Dipper.

"Oh, that." Wirt nodded to himself, then tapped the knuckle of his index finger on the wall. "I got the house cleansed and warded when we moved in, even got talismans and the like hidden around the house. I heard from someone that weird stuff happened here in Gravity Falls... I figured that we needed a form of protection for Greg and I. It protects this property, but if you wanted a personal one you would have to get it specially made."

Norman shook his head, "No, the ghosts are alright and all, I just like to have a sanctuary from them is all."

"Understandable." Wirt commented, pouring the oatmeal into the boiling water. "Do you take your oatmeal with anything?"

"Just butter, milk, and sugar."

"Can do." Wirt responded, stirring the contents of the pan. "Would you mind letting Greg show you around town today? He needs to get out of the house to relax for a while and I can't leave The Bluebird without anyone attending."

"Sure. Dipper already offered, but maybe if we all went together, they could tell each other places the other doesn't know about."

"Good point." Wirt nodded, a nod of understanding that a father would have, and it made Norman's heart ache a little. The responsibility Wirt now held over the life of his younger brother aged him immeasurably. "The oatmeal is done. Once you finish, it might be best to wake your friends."

"Friends?" Norman said aloud, "I don't know about friends-"

"Well, friend, at least. I saw how you were with that Dipper guy yester-"

"Wirt, I-"

"Stop it." Wirt interrupted, taking the spoon that had previously stirred the oatmeal and pointing it at Norman. "I get it, Norm. When you moved, you got uprooted from all you knew. I've been there too, remember?" An expression crossed Wirt's face as he remembered moving out of his own home to a town in scenic nowhere in hopes to start his life over again, and to hopefully improve Greg's in the process.

Wirt lowered the accusatory spoon and sighed, setting the bowl in front of Norman. "You and I are a lot alike. We both don't think highly of ourselves to the point of flaw. But you have got to let it go, or at least not let it affect your life so much. Those kids are good for you, there's something special about them. In all the time I've known you, I have never seen you that happy. Don't ruin it by standing in your own way, Norm. It's okay to feel close to people 'too fast'. Okay?"

Norman nodded dumbly.

"Okay, here's your oatmeal. Eat it quick before it gets cold, I need to head to the front counter." Wirt said hurriedly, untying the apron from his waist and hanging it on a hook. "Norm, don't worry about scaring him off. If he's worth it, he'll inadvertently prove it to you." Wirt gave a final tap-tap to Norman's shoulder before leaving to head to the front of the house.

Norman ate his oatmeal distractedly, his mind wandering to the teens upstairs. Sure, he'd taken a particular interest in Dipper, but that was because he knew him- distantly. Norman tended to sit in the back of classes, Dipper near the front. In the few classes they had together, Norman had formed a one-sided closeness to the boy he watched from afar. It was not in admiration that he watched Dipper, so much as fascination. He was outstandingly different from the rest of their classmates and Norman, in his own mind, felt he was the only one who noticed this obscure and unseen quality that made Dipper different from everyone else. Norman saw it in himself when he would spare a glance in the mirror, an insatiable curiosity and a yearning for something unseen.

Maybe it was the same for Dipper as it was for Norman, a yearning to diverge from the mundane. The excitement (albeit terror as well) that derived from the autumn that the dead rose and the happiness that came from his gift being put to a higher purpose, to save the living and redeem the dead. Norman wished to have that purpose back. He was sinking in place, his only deeds coming from the occasional helping of a wayward spirit that needed to be put to rest, once and for all. Norman wondered if Dipper had some yearning like that too, or if he was just projecting.

At that moment, Coraline walked down the stairs quietly, her boyfriend nowhere to be seen.

"Norman, I'm about to wake up Wybie. I just wanted to thank you and your cousin for letting us stay here for the night. It's really appreciated."

"No problem," Norman replied, frowning at his spoon when it scraped against the bottom of the empty bowl. "Let me know if you guys want to hang out while I'm visiting this summer."

"Of course!" Coraline smiled, surprising Norman. "Sounds like fun. I don't want to spend the entire time hanging with Wybie." She tousled her mussed hair and laughed, "Don't get me wrong, we're a great couple and all but it's nice to have other people to hang around with."

"I guess I can understand that," Norman shrugged, tilting his head a little. He stood and washing his dish before putting it in the drier by the sink. "Well, you know where I am."

"For better or worse," Coraline agreed, using both hands to bring a fake pistol in front of her, making a weak attempt at the sound of a gun firing a round. "See you around, Norman."

"See you," Norman replied, watching her disappear behind the wall shielding the stairs from his eyes.

Wybie followed Coraline when she came down the stairs and waved at Norman as he left.

"Sorry, I'm a bit loud. I woke up Mabel, but Dipper still seems to be asleep." Wybie commented as he closed the front door leading to the street.

...

Mabel came down the stairs a while later, clothes changed and hair brushed with her bag in tow, "Morning, Normie."

"Hey," Norman smiled, sitting with Greg as they watched cartoons. "Want to watch this with us? The Mystery Kid is on the case."

"Oh, I love this show." Mabel sat next to Greg, her legs curling next to her on the couch. "Is this the episode with the giant robots?"

"No, you missed it." Greg muttered, "That was last episode."

"Dang it!" Mabel pouted, "I love that episode."

"Then you should wake up earlier," Greg smiled to himself, making Mabel laugh.

"What's your name?" Mabel asked, watching Greg with interest.

"Gregory." Norman answered for him.

"Greg," the boy corrected, adjusting the right strap of his overalls.

"I like your clothes," Mabel smiled, looking over the boy's outdated sense of clothing, from his loose overalls to the striped shirt he wore under it and the hiking boots on his feet. "Do you wear things like this often?"

Greg nodded, "They remind me of The Wood."

"The Wood?" Mabel asked, the way he'd said the place coming off as vaguely ominous.

Norman interrupted, looking down at Greg with desperation, "You should help Wirt with the morning chores so you can show me around town."

Greg- unaware (or ignoring) Norman's avoidance of the subject of their incident- left the two teens alone to help Wirt.

If Mabel had noticed the shift of mood in Norman, she didn't point it out, just continuing to watch the TV. Norman rose to his feet, making the slow trek up the stairs to wake Dipper. When he opened the door, the girls had apparently made each side of their bed and Wybie putting the chairs back where they originally sat.

"Dipper," Norman whispered, not wanting to scare Dipper awake. Dipper's hair, fallen from his forehead, showed the birthmark across his forehead, a constellation Norman recognized all too quickly. Norman felt a smile grow on his face as he reached out to trace the outline of the big dipper. Dipper woke with a start the moment Norman's fingertip touched his skin.

"Oh, Norman... It's just you." Dipper said in relief.

"Yeah," Norman half-smiled, not able to determine if Dipper sounded relieved or disappointed, "It's just me."

* * *

 _A.N._  
 _To those of you wondering where the_ _paranormal_ _part comes in: it will be soon. I just have to set the stage first._

 _Rome wasn't built in a day, and neither is most_ _story_ _preface. I plan for this to be a slow-burn fic, so hang in_ _there_ _for all the sub-genres!_


	4. We Need to Talk About Greg

.

.

Full title:  
We Need to Talk about Greg (Cus' Be Ackin' Cray-Cray)

 _On a side-note, all P.O.F. labels signify a change in Point of Focus. It's basically a point of view/pov_ _alternative_ _I (unoriginally) made up for third-person narrative_ _. The Passage of Time label is to signify skipping ahead in time longer than an average time lapse interval._

* * *

"Sorry, Norman. Did I sleep in?" Dipper asked, using his arms to lift himself into a sitting position.

Norman shook his head, "No, it's not even noon yet. Your sister is watching TV downstairs with Greg. I'll help you put the bed back into the couch if you want to."

"If you don't mind," Dipper rubbed his eyes sleepily, "but I think I am going to change first."

"Yeah," Norman sighed, "Sure. I'll go ahead and put the blanket back in the closet."

"I guess Coraline and Wybie left," Dipper said absently, pulling the shirt over his head, bending over and tossing a tee into his other hand. He used his left hand to get his blank journal from his bag.

Norman caught sight of the journal out of the corner of his eye, "Your sister was right, you do seem very attached to the journaling thing."

"Well," Dipper started, tossing his journal on the bed to pull a fresh shirt over his head. "I used to keep a journal when we first visited Gravity Falls." He pulled a pen from his jeans pocket, using his teeth to pull off the lid. "Although it was more of a... wildlife guide than a journal."

Dipper smiled to himself, as though he'd said a funny joke. Norman was lost upon its humor.

"So, your journals now are more like a diary?" Norman asked, moving his eyes back to the task at hand, folding the blanket across his chest.

"I always liked calling it a Captain's Log," Dipper joked, "Sounds more manly. But yeah, they're in-depth diaries."

"I never wrote a diary, I just tended to read my sister's." Norman reached to the top of the closet, barely tall enough to reach, and placed the blanket on the shelf, turning to face Dipper as the boy took his time writing his words the way he wanted.

"I never wrote one until we left Gravity Falls, and even before then I never read Mabel's. Since we're twins, we kind of have to share everything so we decided that it was the one thing we could have that was sacred, you know?" Dipper confided, taking pauses between every few words he spoke to write the passage in his journal. When he finished, he put the cap back on his pen and stuck it in his pocket. "Once I unpack, I can put all of my journals in my little backpack. I carry it pretty much everywhere, with all the journals inside."

"Scared someone will read them?" Norman asked.

"Yes and no," Dipper shrugged, putting the notebook away and saddling beside Norman to help fold away the bed. "Partially it's that someone will read them, the other part is what they will _think_ whenthey read it."

"What do you mean?" Norman asked, slipping forward as he lifted the heavy frame and hit his ribs against the metal frame with a painful thud.

"You alright?" Dipper asked, eyes searching Norman's face for a sign of pain.

Norman's expression twitched only for a second before returning to his neutral expression.

"I'm okay, just a bruise."

"Do you bruise easily?"

"Not really," Norman laughed, dropping the frame into the aging couch. "I just have pale skin, so every little bruise shows. I'm used to bruises... but, really, what are you hiding that you're so afraid someone will see?"

Dipper inhaled slowly through his nose and opened his mouth to say something, then snapped it shut, biting the inside of his bottom lip. "I wrote a lot about Gravity Falls, and what my sister and I experienced here. Some of the information I wrote down would be very dangerous for the wrong person to find. Plus, some of the things I wrote are very personal."

"Oh," Norman breathed out, the word almost indistinguishable from the sound of an exhaled breath. He wondered if the Wendy person Mabel had mentioned was featured in the journal.

Norman was at a loss of what to say, he didn't know whether or not to press further on the topic. So, choosing the safer route, he changed the subject.

"So I was wondering if Greg could come along when you show me around today?"

"Of course, that's fine. My sister loves kids, honestly she loves just about everything." Dipper picked up his bag from the floor. "I was also thinking I could introduce you to a friend of mine I kind of hung around with when Mabel and I were here a couple years ago. When we get back to the Mystery Shack, I can call you and we can all meet up and see the sights."

"Sounds like fun." Norman responded half-heartedly, taking the outstretched phone from him and saving his number under Norman Babcock with a zombie emoji beside the name. Norman held out his phone and Dipper took it doing the same. "Do you need a ride? I have my license and I think Wirt would let me borrow his van if I hurried back."

"Don't worry about it," Dipper smiled, "I think I wanna walk to the Shack, get the whole feeling of being back here again. Mabel may want a ride, though."

Norman glanced at his phone absently, and could suddenly feel the distance between them. Norman wondered, deep down, if it may have had something to do with his silence when everyone shared their summarized versions of their supernatural experiences. Norman couldn't help but wonder if his silence had assured Dipper they could never truly be friends. He exhaled, telling himself he was being stupid and pressed forward with the conversation.

"Dipper," Norman said the name without realizing it while putting the cushions back on the couch. Dipper made a noise to show he was listening. Realising he'd spoken, he decided to just say what he was thinking. "I know we've only known each other for literally less than twenty-four hours but do you think you could consider me a friend?"

Dipper was so shocked by the question, he even lost his balance for a moment.

"I mean, I guess so, Norman." Dipper took a moment to change his tone, afraid he'd sounded too blunt, he took a softer voice. "I mean, like you said, we don't know each other very well."

Norman shrugged, "Just wondering."

He tried to hide the hurt he felt by exiting the room and heading back to the tv where Greg sat. The two of them sat on the couch and Greg looked at him observingly. As if deciding something, Greg wrapped his arms around his cousin's arm and leaned his head on his shoulder.

"I missed you, Mr. Normal," Greg whispered.

"Missed you too, Farmer McGregor." Norman smiled, consoled by the boy's obvious attempt to cheer him up. Mabel padded quietly upstairs so the boys' conversation did not get interrupted.

"Your voice sounds better now," Greg said plainly, still interested in his show. "You don't sound as upset as you do over the phone."

"Yeah," Norman said more to himself than to Greg, "Here, I don't have to bend over backwards to make everyone happy."

"Wirt says that at the end of the day, as long as you're happy, your loved ones should be too." Greg looked over to Norman, his mouth forming the words, mind disconnected from the adult words he was reiterating (even though he knew exactly what they meant for _him_ in his healing from The Unknown).

"Do you like it here?" Norman asked, making sure Wirt was not in the room before looking back at Greg for the answer.

"People here are nice, they care more," he scratched an invisible itch on the back of his left hand. "The town is smaller, Wirt said that's why."

"That's not what I mean," Norman frowned.

"I don't miss Mom and Dad, if that's what you mean." Greg was perceptive as always, but according to Wirt he only became blunt after the divorce. "They have their own problems, Wirt and I were just another one... At least, that's what they said."

"They _said_ that?" Norman asked, too surprised to restrain himself from asking the invasive question.

"The day we left," Greg moved his eye contact from Norman to the tv, his gaze glassy. "Wirt was in the car. I don't think they know I heard them. Years ago, after the thing in The Unknown... we told them what happened and they sent us to therapy. Wirt got out faster since he lied about it, but I told them everything. They said I was pa-para-" Greg got frustrated, his face scrunched. "I don't know how to say it."

"Paranoid schizophrenic." Wirt muttered, leaning against the doorframe nearby. The two's heads snapped up quickly, uncomfortable that they'd been overheard. "They said he'd hallucinated the whole thing and that I 'encouraged his fantasies' about The Wood."

The door upstairs closed and the twins came downstairs with their luggage. Reading the atmosphere, both said an awkward thank-you before speeding through the front door. Silence ensued for several more seconds after they left before Wirt sighed, he sat beside the two boys on the couch.

"We should tell him now," Greg told Wirt, leaning over Norman, as if Norman had dissipated into thin air within the past five seconds.

"It's a long story," Wirt told Norman, gauging his reaction.

Norman nodded patiently as the boys steeled themselves to tell the story. The boys were right, Norman would soon find out, it _was_ a long story.

...  
 **P.O.F.**  
 **Pines Twins**

"Well, that was weird." Dipper muttered, glancing back at the inn. "All I heard was something about some woods."

"You mean _The_ Wood," Mabel corrected.

"What?"

"Greg said something about it earlier, the way he said it sounded like a proper noun, not a regular one."

"What does that have to do with anything?" Dipper asked confused.

"Well, it means _something_ important," she answered, adjusting the hem of her sweater. "Greg seemed off when he mentioned it."

"What do you think happened?"

"It's none of our business," she answered pointedly, shrugging before scurrying up the Mystery Shack stairs.

Dipper sighed. She was right, he told himself, it was none of his business. The sound of Mabel squealing, screeching, and jumping to hug Soos, then coo over his newly-wed wife Melody, made him exhale a sharp sigh. Sometimes, he found his sister's constant exhuberance to be exhausting.

Dipper dropped his bags at the door when he walked in, giving Soos a quick hug before giving a friendly but awkward hello to Melody. Mabel ran upstairs to put away her things, which left him with the couple. They were cute together, Dipper conceded, Melody making a vague reference to something and Soos responded in kind before she returned to the cashier's counter.

"So, how's everything?" Dipper asked weakly, his lack of communication with Soos extended to not knowing much more than his recent wedding 2 months prior.

"It's alright, everyone really likes the new upside-down room." He says proudly, not catching on to Dipper's awkwardness (much to Dipper's silent relief).

"That's great, Soos." Dipper sighed, smiling. "You seem happy."

"Yeah, your uncles should be here in the next few days. They didn't say when, they said something about wanting to play it by ear." Soos muttered, "whatever that means."

"I'm gonna put my stuff away," Dipper said more to himself than Soos, picking up his things and moving to his shared room with his sister.

"Dip! Dip! D-D-D-Dip!" Mabel muttered as if rapping, sunglasses upside down on her face.

"That will never be funny," Dipper chastised, smiling anyway.

"Yeah but it makes you smile!" She grinned, "You should be happy we made friends before we even got here! We don't have to worry about the old gang being too old to hang with us _minors_."

"Wendy's not like that," Dipper defended, sliding his stacks of clothes onto a nearby shelf.

"Things are different, Dipper," Mabel admitted, her voice dampening with sadness. "We've all changed."

"Not Wendy," he continued weakly before dropping the subject entirely. "So, Norman and the Coraline/Wybie combo... what do you think?"

"Coraline is fun," Mabel stated, "Wybie is quirky but in a good way, and Norman seems a little... quiet?"

"Yeah, I thought so too..." Dipper agreed, "He asked me if we were friends this morning."

"What did you say?" Mabel asked disappointedly, knowing where the conversation was going.

"I said we didn't know each other very well."

"Dip- _per_!" Mabel yelled scoldingly.

"What?!"

"This is why people won't be friends with you!" Mabel rolled her eyes, hanging her head in exaggerated disappointment before looking at Dipper again. "You don't just _feel_ things like you should! You have to overanalyze _everything_!"

"When we were kids, things were different."

"If you say 'Trust no one' I will actually sock you in the kisser." Mabel grunted, unamused and crossing her arms.

" _Well_ -!"

"Well, nothing! That was so mean! You're supposed to say 'Sure, Norman! Maybe we can be even closer friends over this summer!' No _wonder_ he was so bummed when he came downstairs. You don't have to be able to pass a pop quiz on them to consider them a friend!"

"You're a pain," Dipper pouted petulantly.

"That, my brother, is the pain that comes with knowing the truth. The truth hurts." Punching her twin in the arm, then, laughing to herself distractedly, her seriousness left her voice. "I really wish I had my bubble pipe, it would've been perfect just now."

Dipper's mind drifted off and he checked his phone, then sent a text to Norman.

 **(A.N. The emoji of a zombie is poorly replicated below, my apologies. Pretend it's decent.)**

\- To: Norman (×_×*) 9:41 am  
 _Hey. Sorry I was harsh earlier. I just don't make or keep friends very well, so I get defensive._

After a few minutes of Dipper waiting silently for a response, he turned off his screen and glanced at his sister who was turning her phone off and putting it away in a drawer, muttering to herself that she didn't need it anyway. The twins eventually made their way to the kitchen, pouring each of them a bowl of cereal to eat. Dipper kept his phone on the table, waiting in hopes for an acceptance of his apology.

 **-**  
 **P.O.F.**  
 **Coraline & Wybie**

Having settled at Wybie's grandmother's, Coraline put her things away in the various nooks and crannies lurking about while Wybie left her alone to give her privacy. Coraline had steeled herself for weeks before this move while all her files from her doctors, her schools, et cetera, were transferred to those in Gravity Falls. However, when she woke up that morning in a strange bed, Mabel's face beside hers, a sudden fear instilled its quivering of her heart into her stuttering hands. She managed to keep them from shaking too noticably but her fingers twitched every time she glanced at a door or window, begging her to run away.

She didn't want to be unwanted, although she knew she wasn't unwanted per-say. Coraline knew, however, that somewhere along the way her parents no longer enjoyed being parents and she blamed herself for that. She blamed herself for her parents not getting better jobs that paid more and left them with less stress, she blamed herself for their financial problems because they had one more person to take care of, and she blamed herself for their constant moves but she knew that those things were out of her control. No matter how happy her parents were that she was alive and well, deep down, Coraline knew that once she was an adult their relationship would change to something less painful. She hoped that would be the case, anyway.

Wybie's grandmother had entered the room silently, watching Coraline stare at a old family portrait from when she was a child. After a final look, Coraline threw the framed photograph into a drawer and slammed it shut, wincing at the sound of glass cracking from inside the drawer.

The old woman clicked her tongue at the girl, whose shoulders promptly sagged.

"Can you blame me?"

"The question should be 'Do you blame them?', shouldn't it, Coraline?" The woman responded. "They couldn't do it alone."

"Yeah, and now they don't have to do it at all."

"Give it time, Coraline," the woman smiled sadly, patting the girl's shoulder. "Just think about it."

Coraline nodded, Wybie's grandmother leaving the room to usher Wybie in (who stood silently at the door after hearing his grandmother's voice), his face downturned in a rare sad expression. Wybie stepped in when she left and hugged Coraline tightly from behind, his body towering slightly over her as he hunched to lean his cheek on her head. Coraline cried silently, thankful that the arms around her tightening their hug.

After a few minutes, Coraline wiped her eyes and forced a smile, "We should call Mabel."

It took a few rings before the line went to voicemail. "Drats," Coraline muttered foully as if she had cursed. "Her phone must be off. We don't have Dipper's number."

"We can call the Shack, where they're staying, it should be in the phone book." Wybie mentioned, "I'll bring you the phone book. Do you want some breakfast?"

Coraline nodded quietly.

"Oreos and root beer?"

Coraline nodded again, smiling a little, "You know me so well."

"Coming right up." Wybie said with a smile, racing out of the room and down the stairs.

Coraline took her moment alone to open the drawer she had just slammed shut. The photo was cracked in a zig-zagged L-shape, decapitating her head from the rest of the picture. She sighed, fighting back tears, and slid the drawer shut with all the care she could muster. She had to check in once she got there over the phone, and once a week thereon. Taking her phone in her hand she made a quick call to her mother's cell, then her father's, both to no avail. She left a message on their home phone's answering machine.

"Hey, it's me... Coraline... your daughter. I'm here okay and I made some new friends... Talk to you soon... Bye."

After exhaling she looked up to see Wybie's serious expression become a smile, "How long were you standing there?"

"Long enough for your root beer to no longer be hazardous to open."

Coraline, despite herself, laughed, "You're the best."

"I know," he smiled, setting the phone book on her bed, handing her her breakfast.

"Where's your breakfast?"

"You and me live together now, we share everything~!" He cooed.

"Except clothes, I hope, you'd stretch out my jeans." Coraline laughed.

"Fine but my clothes are fair game, have at it... except my underwear, obviously."

Coraline laughed, choking on her drink, "Wouldn't dream of it, Spooky."


	5. Attention: Welcome Wagon on the Air

.

.

Full chapter title: Attention: Welcome Wagon on the Air (... with breaking news)

 _This title reference is reaaally vague so I'll go ahead and tell you it's an Independence Day reference._

* * *

 **P.O.F.**  
 **The Bluebird B &B**

After the story had run its course, Norman's brain was still absorbing the finer details when a question finally began to make its way to the forefront of his mind. He considered asking, but once he had decided, he was a moment too late- the question went unanswered. (The sound of the bell dinging at reception forced Wirt to return to his duties.) Norman picked his cell phone up where he'd abandoned it on the coffee table earlier to hear their story; after turning on the screen, he noticed the story that Wirt and Greg had told him had taken the better part of an hour to tell. Seeing Dipper's text, Norman responded with a half-hearted forgiveness as his mind tried to wrap around the idea (no, the _phenomenon)_ that was The Unknown. He didn't have the time to rehash his wounded feelings from earlier that morning.

 _-From: Norman_  
 _-To: Dipper_

 _It's fine, talk to you a bit later._

He exhaled sharply, pinching his eyes much like he was fending off an impending headache, and frowned to himself as he itched a spot on his hand. Suddenly, he saw a fly crawling on the back of his right hand, and he killed it with a single quick slap of his left palm. A memory of his uncle suddenly resurfaced as he stared at the crushed fly, he took a moment to remember the feeling of tearing the book from the man's rigored hands as the flies had already begun crawling on him and buzzing about his corpse. The dry, parchment-like feeling of his uncle's discolored skin as the muscles around his knuckles and fingers already had begun to slough off beneath Norman's touch.

His stomach turned at the memory of the smell, causing him to gag involuntarily. Greg's cautioned touch of Norman's forearm made it obvious to the older boy that Greg could sense something was off. It made Norman feel weak, like he was a scared child again, just like he was during the Incident.

"You're remembering that day... aren't you, Norm?" Greg whispered, more to soothe Norman's nerves than avoid being heard.

Norman nodded, "I don't know if I told you about my uncle, but I had to take the book I needed from his body."

"But, that day, I thought you said he-"

"He was," Norman finished, sweeping the fly from his hand into the waste bin beside him; Greg understood the nuances of the tone and gesture, the boy's face simply took on a blank expression before he excused himself to play in his room, wise to Norman's need to be alone.

The cartoon had only a few minutes left, muted for Wirt and Greg to tell their story, but caught the edge Norman's eye when the colors suddenly changed from bleak greens and purples to flashes of red across the screen in a breaking news report. Norman scrambled to turn the volume up in time to hear the local newscaster. The camera footage showed a field surrounded by trees, with 3 blurred silhouettes with a large halo of red surrounding the corpses.

"This is not footage of last week's victims, viewers, but is actually another 3 cases of animal attack. To those of you watching, the Gravity Falls city council has issued a curfew in hopes to prevent more tragedies such as these, it takes effect immediately so no one is allowed outdoors after sunset. A statement issued by the sheriff's department orders that anyone who disobeys the curfew will be locked in holding overnight for their own safety. Please stay safe, everyone, and back to the weather."

Norman's eyes were glued to the screen, his eyes seeing the blurred, semi-nude, censored bodies on the screen and grass visibly caked with blood with every blink of his eyes. He could see them even when he closed his eyes. His fingers shook as he sent a text to Dipper.

 _-From: Norman_  
 _-To: Dipper_

 _Have you seen the news?_

A few moments later, Dipper was calling Norman over the phone. Dipper's voice was strained, as though he was trying to regain his composure.

"So, Norman, I think the sight seeing is not really an option anymore." Dipper uttered, feeling that stating the obvious was the easiest way to end the conversation. Norman could hear the sound of Dipper's hair brushing against the receiver, as well as the rustling of papers in the background. "Mabel's going to go over to talk to Wybie and Coraline... and I have to make a few calls. My sister put her phone out of commission so just contact me if anything... _odd_ happens, okay? I'll try to keep you updated."

It was at this instant, his eyes staring unfocused into the street, that Norman realized there was a spirit outside staring right at him. Norman let in a sharp hiss of surprise, startling Dipper on the line. The house was warded, the spirit couldn't get in, but it still somehow knew he was there.

"What's the matter? You okay? You sound like you've-" Dipper started.

"Yeah," Norman whispered distractedly, "I gotta go. I'll keep in touch."

He hung up, cutting Dipper off mid-sentence and going through the front door, the screen door clinking shut behind him. The ghost stood silently in the road, face covered in deep gashes as one eye hung loosely from its socket; throat was sliced from beneath the chin to the collarbone, inside of the throat torn open, most of her body looked as though she'd quite literally been chewed and spit back out. It was reminiscent of a neighbor's fabric doll chewed to shreds by the family dog, left on the sidewalk to rot.

The female spirit, appearing only a few years older than Norman, opened her mouth and tried to form words as her useless vocal cords hung visibly within her neck. She reached out her arms and let out a silent roar, gone as quickly as she had appeared. Norman's phone buzzed in his hand, when he answered it Wirt was on the line. In Norman's inner turmoil, he barely recognized his cousin's voice.

"Come inside, Norman, it's not safe." To which Norman nodded, hung up, and headed towards the door. Wirt stood inside, door open but the screen still closed, his phone held tightly in his hand at his right side as he watched Norman silently through the front window. Norman texted Dipper a single phrase, _there will be more_ , heart heavy at the his mind's after-images of the woman's flayed flesh and torn clothes.

 **P.O.F.**  
 **Dipper Pines**

Dipper watched out his window, radio playing repeats of the breaking news in a continuous loop in the background. He waited to see Mabel walk back towards the Mystery Shack or to see a sudden early arrival of his great uncles. He waited for _any_ sign of life on the street, but it had been quiet since they had gotten off the bus. Eerily quiet. _Things_ _always_ _happened in Gravity Falls_ , Dipper reasoned, _but nothing like this._ _All this happening was weird but not in the run-of-the-mill Gravity Falls way._

 _But more_ _what_? Dipper wanted to know, _and how does Norman know, does he know what the Falls is up against?_ Despite Dipper's wonderings, he not ask Norman directly about the cryptic message. Without saying, somehow, he knew what Norman meant- more victims. More will die if the animal is not stopped, but stop it how?

After making a call to his parents to let them know they were there safe (knowing no response would come), a voicemail to his gruncles' shared mobile phone, a call to the sheriff's office in hopes of getting some information (none was given seeing as he was "unaffiliated with the case at hand"), and a call to an old cryptid contact (The Lilliputtians) for a steady flow of gossip from humans (most of the information Dipper received was as unhelpful as he'd expected), all calls of which had to be made from the roof to get decent reception. By the time he was back inside, he was exhausted from waiting, it was then he truly began to wait only for his sister's return.

 **P.O.F.**  
 **Mabel Pines**

The road was deserted, save for Mabel and a few stray animals that she would stop to pet a few strokes before continuing to go on her way. Mabel was the kind of girl that smiled even in the face of danger, but the news report scared her in a way she was unfamiliar with, she was scared of death as opposed to a normal fear of injury. She hadn't seen the grisly details, having only heard bits of it on community radio, but the information they did give was enough to turn her stomach.

She always saw animals in a positive light, even when she had come to the inevitable understanding that animals have a different code of ethics than humans. She knew their instinct was more powerful than their morals (at least those that can be retained by an animal), but what bothered her was that according to how the animal attacked the victims- the victims just _gave in_ to being torn to shreds. Mabel just could not understand why. She'd read a few books here and there about human psychology, and skimmed a book once about the social hierarchy and instincts of pack-oriented animals, and neither the animal attacking so close to civilization or the fact that the victims had no defensive wounds (according to the hearsay of the community radio host) made no logical sense.

No matter how many what-if scenarios Mabel came up with on the way to "Granny" Lovett's house, they all hit a snag- the inevitable possibility it was a supernatural so-called _Pines' Problem_ , and so it was up to her to tell Coraline and Wybie to keep their noses out of the investigation. Before Mabel had left, she and her brother spoke in quiet whispers for a few moments of possible theories and adjoining plans before Mabel volunteered to tell the young couple to not poke their nose in it, it was the Pines' responsibility she would tell them but even to her she didn't sound convincing enough.

As Mabel rang the doorbell, she could hear the news from the television inside. She let out a quiet curse, bothered they had to hear it from the horse's mouth, the door simultaneously being opened by Ms. Lovett with a grim and concerned expression contorting her features.

"Are you Mabel?" The woman asked.

When Mabel nodded, she let her in to the sight of Coraline sobbing into Wybie's shirt, while Wybie doing his best to hold himself together.

"Coraline," Mabel whispered, taking on a quieter tone than she intended.

Coraline heard her regardless and stopped her squalls and replaced them with quiet, fast breaths, "I hoped I'd get away from all this. I expected quirky, small-town life- not murder around every corner!"

Wybie cooed to her, "You don't need to worry about it, it's just an animal. It just needs to be found, and a park ranger or something can-"

"That's what I came to talk to you about, actually." Mabel murmured under her breath, finding Ms. Lovett already leaving the room under the pretense of 'bringing the kids some lemonade'. "My brother and I, based on what we've experienced here before, we think you two should lie low. We know you're not much younger than we are, but we know the area and we have connections that you two don't- and we have an idea what we're up against. That being said, don't leave the house unless you have to and only take main roads, that means no shortcuts _whatsoever_. Okay? And _absolutely_ not after dark."

Wybie nodded, then looking to a nearby doorway, said to his grandmother, "You too, Granny, they know what they're talking about. They've dealt with bigger, right? So they can handle it."

Mabel could hear the lilt in his voice, the hopeful indication in his question; the hope that she would know how to handle things and that everything would be okay. The lack of guarantee that she and her brother could fix things unsettled her, forcing her to say her goodbyes prematurely with parting words similar to her brother's assurance to Norman of keeping in touch. They sounded hollow to her ears, as well as those at the Lovett residence. Reaching the street, she began her walk towards the center of town with its familiar corner stores and small diners.

However, on her walk back she did not expect the blast from the past which awaited her in the form of a girl with a young face covered in freckles, her mouth pursed around the straw of an iced coffee with a book in her other hand, holding the binding back behind the cover, leaning against the building with the ease and grace of a Romanesque statue. The hair was pulled back, out of her eyes, hair waving down as it reached the ends, sleeves rolled up to her elbows to expose a right forearm covered in a sleeve tattoo featuring trees and the word REMEMBER in bold, cursive handwriting. Mabel's smile betrayed her, as did the voice that called out the woman's name without taking another moment to take in the beautifully complacent form.

"Wendy!"

The girl looked up with a smile, recognizing Mabel immediately, "How ya doin', kid?"

"Wow, you look amazing!" Mabel gushed, watching Wendy close her book and shove it in her back pocket. "Your hair is longer!"

"Yeah," Wendy smiled coyly, pulling a hair that had fallen from the loose ponytail at the nape of her neck to behind her ear. Her face seemed frozen in time, the exact same as when they had left save for a small scar that went in a white line across her chin. "You've really grown up, have you started dating yet?"

"Not really a concern," Mabel admitted, "What about you? Anyone interesting in your life?"

Wendy shrugged both shoulders aloofly, smiling, "Where's your brother at? He in Gravity Falls too?"

Mabel nodded, her mood dampening, suddenly remembering the animal attacks, "Yeah, our timing seems impeccable like always."

"You mean the bear attacks?" Wendy asked, "It's not a big deal, it'll get sorted out in a few days. My dad is one of the guys looking for it on the side, since he's worried about my brothers and I."

"Are they saying it's a bear?"

"Not really," Wendy admitted, "but it's not like we get a lot of wolves in this area this time of year. The deforestation in the area thanks to you-know-what was devastating, so the animal population slimmed down a bit. The supernatural stuff is still around though, although they hide a lot better. Actually, I saw a gnome the other day, I think it was the one that wanted to marry you that one time."

Mabel laughed, "Oh, don't remind me. If you want, though, you can come back with me to The Shack. We're actually thinking it's not an animal attack, it'd be helpful to have another head in on this that went through Weirdmageddon with us to help us figure this out."

"I don't know," Wendy sighed, biting her lip. "I was actually going to someone's house in an hour to touch base with them on something."

"It won't take long, please, Wendy; we need your help on this. It's dangerous and we need to know what we're up against."

Wendy nodded twice, patting her pants pockets to make sure she had her wallet, keys, and book before walking with Mabel back to the Mystery Shack. Dipper saw their eventual approach from above, simultaneously his heart raced and his stomach sank. His feelings for Wendy had definitely faded but the hurt from lack of contact he still felt with a vengeance. He met them at the door, opening it right as Mabel was going to knock.

"Oh, Dipper." Mabel uttered, flustered. "Looks like we're getting the band back together to figure this out."

"How much of the band? Just the main lineup or the entire ensemble?" Dipper grumbled, a poor attempt of a joke, before leading them to the kitchen.

"Speaking of," Wendy started, grabbing a pretzel log from the clear cookie jar nearby. "I don't know if you two know, but Pacifica left town ages ago. She's a gossip radio personality now out of Charlotte I think, Old Man McGucket _kicked_ the proverbial bucket, and Robby's been touring with the band for 6 months now. Meaning they're safe from this for now... Oh, where's the Gruncles? They around?"

Mabel nodded, "Should be here within the week, I don't think they know about all this yet, no way they really could, except maybe a letter from Soos."

"I left them a voicemail but no telling when they'll get it," Dipper sighed, running a hand through his hair in frustration. Dipper caught himself staring at Wendy but brushed it off in favor of asking a question, "So, how serious are these attacks, exactly? I know what I've seen on TV looks bad but I want to know what you think about it. I know your dad is good friends with the Sheriff and the Deputies, you must've heard _something_ they aren't telling the public."

"Not really," Wendy admitted, "Only thing I know is that whatever this thing is, it's got them terrified. Dad said the way those people were torn apart was no coincidence, it was done practically the same way to every victim. They're hunting for it like mad, they say it should be found in the next week or so."

"So what are we talking here?" Mabel asked, saying aloud what they were all thinking. "A werewolf gone rogue or something? A wendigo? Maybe a minotaur with a beef?"

"Well it sure as hell seems like it, too coincidental to be overlooked as non-supernatural." Dipper whispered. "What are we gonna do about Soos? We're putting him in danger by being here and conspiring to stop that thing."

"Whatever we have to do to keep him safe." Wendy whispered, chewing the pretzel log thoughtfully. "I work as a secretary at the sheriff's department, so I'll go swipe the case files from the station. We need to get this thing dead and buried _fast,_ before it hurts someone else."

They all agreed silently in that moment that they would take care of whatever was in those woods, whether it was animal, cryptid, monster, _or_ human.

Suddenly, Dipper's phone rang and he excused himself to answer it, leaving the girls alone.

"Dipper," Norman insisted over the phone, "whatever you guys are doing, I want in. I can't ignore this anymore."

Dipper had an excuse to tell him no on the tip of his tongue, but ignored it. "Why?"

"What happened to my town years ago... people got really hurt. I can help you guys and I have to, otherwise, if anyone else gets hurt while I'm cowering in a corner, I'll blame myself. I have to help. Dipper, _please_."

Dipper sighed after a moment, "Well, get over here, then. We've got a lot of ground to cover."

* * *

 _ **A.N.**_

 _ **Initially, I was going to wait until I finished this story to upload it here... buuuuut wattpad is not exactly the best platform for constructive criticism.**_

 _ **So! give me your thoughts, theories, whatever you like. Thank you so much for reading!**_

 _ **~deathbyinsomnia**_


	6. Into the Woods

_**Full chapter title:**_  
 _ **Into the Woods (to Find Hyleoroi)**_

* * *

Norman was shellshocked; he didn't expect Dipper to agree so readily, so when he did- he found himself at a loss for words.

"Really?" Norman asked, brain slowly shifting back into gear.

" _Yeah_ , Norman-" Dipper was leaning towards exasperation, "get over here. Bring the van if it's not too much trouble, we may need to go visit... some old friends." Dipper said with a tint of irritation before a sound in the background caused Dipper to utter a quick, "Hold on, Norman- What, Wendy? Oh, okay. Good idea. So, Norm, nevermind about the van; Wendy said she can go home and get her truck and she can take us all to the course."

"The course?"

"Long story, uhm..." Dipper sighed, "I'll explain when we get there. I hope you are of the _open-minded_ sort."

"Have to say I am," Norman grinned a little, then his face fell when he looked at the door to Greg's room. "I'll wait on the porch, on the railing."

"Be there in about a half hour, and I don't know how long we'll be out so bring some stuff to eat and drink, a jacket, whatever you need. Tell Wirt it may be a while, but to call you if he gets worried. I'll keep our phones charged. See you in a bit." With that, Dipper hung up.

The abrupt end to the phone call left Norman in a daze as he explained the situation to Wirt (who was less than pleased that his cousin was digging into such a dangerous situation, but respected his cousin's judgement). Wirt reluctantly agreed to let Norman go as long as he kept Wirt updated. And so, Norman Babcock packed a backpack filled with a few sandwiches, a couple bottles of water, his phone, a spare set of clothes, his multitool, and his handheld camcorder that he always kept in his pocket (should a perfect filming moment arise).

 _Always the boy scout_ , he could hear in his mother's voice whenever she'd see Norman overpacking for the sake of preparedness.

 _Probably would've made a good one if he had actually signed up like I told him to and stopped watching those crappy b-movies and went outside once in a while,_ his father always muttered back to her.

Norman always pretended he couldn't hear them.

O-O-O-O

When Norman was saying his goodbyes to Greg, he heard the front door of the inn open and shut; quiet words were exchanged, so quiet, that Norman only caught a bit of it before he left Greg's room to meet the girl in the lounge. The girl's voice, which he now realized could only be Wendy's, caused him to edge closer quietly so he could hear them better.

"-well I have been thinking about it and-" A female voice spoke quietly, then drifted off with the breeze through the windows, her words faded in and out with the gusts of soft wind.

"Yeah, I know, it was a dumb idea but what else could I do? You know... with-" Wirt's voice was clearer but lowered when he realized he was speaking too loudly to be considered a whisper.

"He's hot on the trail, what do you expect me to do? Play it off?"

"Well, how about you decide-" Wirt's voice cut short when he saw Norman rounding the corner. Wirt's expressionless face became a smile, "There's a Wendy here for you, she says the twins are already outside. "

Norman nodded, adjusting the backpack strap on his shoulder before acknowledging Wendy with a nod, catching the last few words between the two as he opened the screen door leading outside.

"This conversation isn't over." Wirt whispered emphatically, bordering on anger.

"Same to you, _Wart_." Wendy whispered pointedly, tapping his arm with her palm before following behind Norman.

Norman felt the tension and weight in the air lessen as they got in the truck, squished against Dipper's side. He decided that due to the atmosphere in the room from before, he would not bring up what happened inside the house.

"You know my cousin?" Norman asked.

"Yeah," was Wendy's only answer, followed by the action of her turning up the radio.

No one in the car spoke a word, or even sang along to the music, until they reached their destination. They each were lost in their own separate inner turmoils besides the threat of a murderer on the loose.

O-O-O-O

"Why are we at a mini golf course?" Norman asked with genuine concern as they all poured out of the car and headed towards the abandoned entrance.

"I hate to say it, but this is the only source I have that doesn't want to kill us that also happened to get ahold of a cell phone." Dipper admitted, "Just so you know, this is where that open-mindedness I mentioned before comes into play."

"If you say so," Norman said quietly to himself, watching in awe as Wendy cut the padlock off the gate with bolt cutters.

The sound of the lock falling didn't surprise Norman as much as the complete lack of reaction to the situation was. The thought of the event Mabel had mentioned before, Weirdmaggedon, made Norman wonder if the event had really desensitized the twins to potentially-criminal activity. Norman didn't realise, but his heart began to beat faster in excitement and anticipation, he missed the action that event with the witch had thrust upon him.

Yet, despite the minor deterioration of the golf course, cobwebs, and its overgrown landscaping- it looked almost exactly the same to the Pines twins. Dipper took out his phone, dialed a number, and began to follow the sound of a ringing phone to its source. Wendy, making an excuse to see if there were any noteworthy vending machines to break into, left the three to their work. Mabel was the first to introduce Norman to the Lilliputtians as she let them know it was safe to come out. Crawling out of their respective holes, the small creatures stood before the three teens in droves. Their respective costumes remained the same but were caked with a thin layer of dust on each of them.

"A _Norman_ , hm? Why'd you bring an outsider, Pineses?" An older Lilliputtian asked, using a golf tee as a steadying cane. Norman wordlessly associated this particular 'Puttian as a real life equivalent of Gollum.

"If I had known about the course closing, we would have asked better questions about the murders going on. Either way, you must know something about what is happening here."

"If you had visit, you would know more than you do now. " a younger Lilliputtian pouted.

Norman caught sight of a dark look in Dipper's eyes as he opened his mouth to speak, Mabel spoke before Dipper could manage a response. "We had a lot going on at home, we wanted to come but we couldn't."

Dipper's eyes lowered to the ground as he slipped his hands into his pockets, "Regardless, we need intel on this. Suggestions would be helpful, seeing as you aren't giving us much to go on."

The young 'Puttian who spoke up before raised a small pointing finger in the direction to the east woods, "Find the nymph Hyle, she is the watcher of the woods- she sees all. She may be your best chance at a beginning to the thread you must unravel."

"Hi-lee?" Dipper asked, "Am I saying that right? Anyway, how did I not hear about her from Grunkle-"

The young 'Puttian scoffed, "Yes, Hyle; you did not read about her in the journal because she is a Watcher, Pines. She does not interfere with humans, let alone make herself known to them, she merely oversees the care of the woods. However, I believe she will make an exception just this once considering the grave nature of the situation. Bring to her a small natural offering that speaks to you and place it at the base of a tree beside the brook, she may come to you if she feels your intentions are sincere."

Mabel immediately ran in the direction where Wendy had gone, the two boys scarcely thanking the 'Puttians before chasing after Mabel. When they caught up to her she was excitedly telling Wendy that she had been right as a child, that nymphs did exist. Wendy smiled as Mabel reiterated the conversation Wendy had missed while the redhead had been kicking an old vending machine in hopes of getting the only snack left within it- a package of peanut butter crackers. Wendy ate said crackers as Mabel spoke.

"Well alright, then," Wendy wiped off her mouth with her hand. "Let's get this show pony on the road, we can look for offerings on the way to the brook. It's almost a mile walk from the entrance to the woods."

Wendy closed the gate entrance as Norman and Dipper jumped into the truck bed while Mabel choose to sit in the cab with Wendy. Once Wendy had gotten into the truck and left the parking lot, Norman asked Dipper why he wanted them to sit in the back away from the girls.

"Norman, did that freak you out at all? The Lilliputtians, I mean."

"Considering Mabel mentioned something on the bus about her boyfriend turning out to be a bunch of gnomes, I don't know what I expected. Honestly, I didn't know if you guys were telling the truth about that Weirdmaggedon thing... but I can feel pain when I pinch my arm, so here we are. I have no doubts you were telling the truth now, and on top of that creatures I thought didn't exist apparently do in numbers large enough to have their own census- and I am not that freaked out." He paused, clicking his tongue. "Surprisingly."

Dipper nodded, "That's good. Good... so you're still on board?"

"I've dealt with the weird side of things before. I'd believe in almost anything." Norman's tone and body language betrayed his apprehensiveness.

"What do you mean?" Dipper asked, confused.

Norman opened his mouth to speak when he saw an unfamiliar spirit standing beside the road as they sped past. Face bare, head shaved, the phantom man stood wordlessly Norman's mouth closed and a petulant frown crossed his features, "Maybe another time."

Norman pulled his knees to his chest, laying his face on his knees and exhaling softly. Dipper sighed but did not press the subject, pulling on the ends of his own hair.

Dipper watched in frustration as Norman's eyes seemed to monologue silently, imperceivable words projected in them. Dipper missed being a kid where no one his age had the capacity for abstract or complex emotions; relationships, friendships, and kinships all seemed so much easier in the days where thoughts were spoken aloud and made apparent. He missed the simplicity (borderline monotony) of it all, because now everything seemed too fragile and high maintenance. The thought of his parents almost crossed his mind before he squelched the thought with what he may want to bring as an offering.

Realizing he was overthinking the situation, Norman turned his thoughts away from whether or not to tell Dipper his past and knocked on the window of the cab. He watched as the girls paused their conversation for Mabel to open the window slide.

"What's up, Norman?" Mabel asked.

"The Weirdmaggedon thing you were talking about on the bus, could you tell me the story?" Norman asked, eyes not pointedly avoiding Dipper's but instinctively.

"Dipper can tell you more than I could. Like I said on the bus, I was in a fantasy world for a lot of it, Dipper can tell you more." Mabel looked to Dipper who stared off into the distance, "Dip, can you tell Norman about Weirdmaggedon?"

Dipper shrugged, looking to Wendy, "Do we have enough distance to do story time?"

Wendy shook her head, "Now isn't the time, we got more pressing matters to attend to. Do it on the drive back to the Shack, that drive should suffice."

Dipper nodded, exhaling sharply, "You heard her."

Norman muttered a 'sure' under his breath in disappointment as they neared their destination.

O-O-O-O

After the truck was parked and they all stood at the entrance to the trail, a sense of foreboding fell upon the group. This sense of foreboding was not due entirely to the sound of birds making noises akin to screaming from the depths of the woods, but the sound surely added to the uneasy vibe the group was feeling. Dipper was the first to step onto the sloping path, sidestepping slowly downward to avoid falling. He motioned to the others, each taking a turn to make it down safely. Wendy cleared her throat after a short silence.

"No one really goes in this part of the woods anymore, most of the trails got washed out in the big flood but if my memories of Gryffin Scouts are correct then the brook should be in this direction, then we take a right around the abandoned hut and should be close by there."

"Gryffin Scouts?" Norman asked, "Is that like Eagle Scouts or something?"

"Kinda," Wendy shrugged, walking behind with Norman as the twins plowed ahead. "Gravity Falls created the Gryffin Scouts as a co-ed experience to mix the principles of the two. The mayor back in the 80s couldn't stand that we didn't have a local boy or girl scouts troop that was balanced in teachings- equal parts survival training and homemaking skills- so he made his own. Eventually the other troops all died out after they joined the Griffins, and the rest is history."

"What are some of the things you learned in Scouts?" Norman asked, picking up a rock that he spotted on the ground broken perfectly in two halves. The rock seemed to call to him, not realizing how tightly he clenched it in his fist.

"Well, we learned cartography, sewing, cooking with minimal ingredients, astronomy, self-defense fighting, and other things like that."

Wendy watched the twins look high and low for an offering, then noticed Norman watching his broken rock thoughtfully in his hand.

"Seems you already found one that spoke to you," Wendy said aloud, "why that?"

"I don't know," Norman admitted, "I felt like I saw myself in it somehow... Maybe I'm just partial to broken things."

Norman said the last sentence with a flatness in his voice, but his face changed when he realized he'd said it aloud. The air thickened and silence fell between the two, Norman picked up his pace and paced closely behind the twins who now each had an item in their hands. Mabel had a wildflower, multicolored and beautiful with hidden thorns along its stem; Dipper had a piece of bark that had a perfectly circular hole the size of a dime in its center.

Wendy pulled her hair back into a ponytail as her thoughts turned to her conversation with Wirt: how much did Norman know? But more importantly, what would he do about it if he knew? The last thing the situation needed would be someone interfering at such a delicate time.

Wendy's thoughts were interrupted by the sight of a butterfly, a stunning blue and was right before her eyes. She reached out her hands and captured it between her palms, careful to avoid squishing its fragile body. The walk to the brook seemed to go by quickly once they reached the abandoned building. They stopped to sit on the porch covered in ivy, all taking a moment to rest.

Norman opened his bag and ate a sandwich, Dipper asked for one, which Norman gladly gave him. The break passed in what seemed like peaceful moments, despite the vastness of the woods. When they proceeded to move again, it was Mabel who spoke first.

"So, Norman," Mabel started, taking care to tread carefully on the uneven ground. "You go to school with us, right? I think a friend of mine has film class with you, she mentioned having a partner named Norman so I guess that was you, huh? She said you two did a ghost mockumentary."

"Oh, yeah, Maxine... it was her idea. I just filmed it, found the location, and did the editing." Norman insisted, "She acted in it, wrote the script, made props; I just had to show up."

"That's not what she had told me," Mabel grinned, eyeing Norman behind her. "She said you made her look like a real person. She said she didn't take it seriously but you turned it into something totally sincere."

Norman blushed, smiling to himself, "Well, I had a lot of free time."

"Did you compose the music too?"

"I wouldn't say that, but I did put in a few guitar plucks and piano notes that I recorded at the Music Emporium. I'm not very good at playing instruments but I didn't want there to be silence. There wasn't much sound in the building we recorded in." Norman's smile softened at the memory, "It was the first time someone chose me at a partner instead of 'ending up' with me. I've never been good at making the first move for that kind of thing."

"Really?" Dipper asked, to which Norman let out a quiet affirmation.

Wendy stopped ahead of them, her shoulders tensed, "Guys, I think we're here."

They all stood at the brook, a beautiful tree next to the bank with large white flowers growing on its branches. One after the other, the group placed their trinkets at the foot of the tree.

After a few moments of silence, an ethereal silhouette emerged from the trunk of the tree. Although seemingly sexless- her skin with the texture and colored patchwork of bark, hair of leaves, and eyes like sightless opal- she had curves in places to suggest her feminine nature. Her thin fingers reached out as she bent to retrieve the offerings from the forest floor, her hair-like greenery falling in front of her face as she inspected the objects in her hand.

Hyle looked to Wendy first, her voice airy with the calm of the brook that seemed to surround them. "Of all the things you could have brought, I find your choice very telling, Miss."

"Why do you say that?" Wendy asked, watching the nymph's smile with suspicion.

"You have chosen to ensnare a thing of innocence and beauty and brought it to me as a gift. You too, young lady," Hyle turned to Mabel. "You have doomed the life of that flower for a moment of savoring it's beauty. I find it very naive of you two, if not sad that you do not cherish more-"

"I do!" Mabel blurted as Wendy watched her boots in shame, "I do cherish it, but I know that I felt a connection with this flower. This one. So I bring it to you as a reflection of myself, because I know that I am sacrificing something I love and offering it to you as a show of good faith. So you can understand where we're coming of when we ask our favor of you."

"Before that," Hyle smiled, impressed, then she turned her attention to the boys, "Dipper, you brought a piece of bark with a hole for the eye to see. Is there something you wish to see more clearly? Never you mind, young man, you will know in time once you listen to the sounds around you."

Dipper had the expression you would expect, one of impatience at the stalling, but did not speak up in favor of respect.

"Norman, what a curious boy... Now, ask me what you wish to ask. I can see you are in need to know, and your friends seem ready to take action."

Norman took a shaky breath before looking into her white eyes, "The murders happening, the deaths, what do you know about them?"

Hyle's expression darkened as her voice took on an edge of warning, "The beast that stalks the woods of Gravity Falls, it is new and not native to this land. For that reason it is especially dangerous, do not seek out the beast if you value your lives."

"We don't have the option," Wendy piped up. "Have you seen it? How can we get rid of it?"

"It runs on four legs with teeth like daggers and claws the length of your hand, and its eyes are black as a moonless night, it howls as if it is in dire pain. If you choose to pursue this beast, know that you are choosing to risk your life." Hyle spoke quietly, her voice sharp.

Mabel looked at her brother, sharing a look before looking directly into the eyes of the Nymph and smiled in confidence, "I don't know about Norman or Wendy, but we Pines twins never back down from a fight."

"I'm not backing out now," Wendy defended, crossing her arms.

"Me either," Norman sighed, "Now, no offence... but if we're done, we should head back. It's going to get dark by the time we get back to town."

"You're right," Dipper turned to Hyle and bowed slightly, hoping it expressed his respect thoroughly enough. "Thank you, Hyle, we really appreciate your help. Hopefully we'll be able to take care of it and spare the lives of others in town, stay safe."

"You too, young ones. May fate smile upon you, in spite of what lies ahead." Hyle's final words a whisper as she bonded herself back to her tree.

"Is it just me or did that sound really foreboding?" Dipper asked.

"Don't think about it too much, let's get back before it gets dark." Wendy urged, jogging ahead as the others followed suit.

* * *

 _ **A.N.**_

 _ **Thanks to my dear friend who proofed this chap before it went live. Readers, thanks for hanging in there. If you have theories or commentary please engage in the comments.**_  
 _ **~deathbyinsomnia**_

 _ **P.S. Again, this was uploaded to wattpad about 2+ weeks ago due to my inability to get on my actual computer to upload it here.**_

 _ **To stay updated, I suggest following my wattpad account under the same name.**_

 _ **3**_


	7. The Unseen and Ever-Present Danger

Full chapter: The Unseen and Ever-Present Danger (Is Upon Us)

"You should go home, Norman." Dipper huffed as they climbed up the hill to the trail exit. "All this 'beast' talk is making me wonder if we should keep you out of this."

Norman's expression quickly turned to anger, "Oh. I see."

Mabel shook her head, uncomfortable, and Wendy grimaced bracing herself with a mental 'Aw, man... here we go'.

"So I'm some child now that needs to be relocated to the kids' table? Really, Dipper?" Norman was indignant, not bothering to hide the irritation in his tone. His arms were stretched out fully from his sides, palms up. "I don't get it-- the last I checked, we're the same age! More importantly, I thought we were on the same team here-- why are you trying to push me out of this!?"

Dipper's face turned red, then he proceeded to shout loud enough that it echoed a second or two in the woods around them, "Goddamn it, Norman, we could DIE doing this, you know?!"

There was a quietness, but for only a few moments.

Norman's face softened for a second, realizing he was out of line, before his face turned stoic, "I know that, Dipper. I do. This isn't the first time I've come face-to-face with death, you know? I'm not afraid to die, Dipper. Really, I'm not... At least if I died trying to save people from whatever this thing-- person-- is, at least I can say I did something worth the risk."

Mabel exhaled, roughly pushing past the two boys with an uncharacteristically dark expression, "Get moving, we don't have time to fight. Fight in the truck."

Dipper watched his sister with a look of shame before following her wordlessly. She was right, they had no time to waste. As they all piled into the truck, all but Norman in the cab, Norman pulled on the hem of Dipper's shirt as the Pines boy tried to step up into the truck.

"I'm staying at the Shack, Wirt and Greg are safer without me around anyway." Norman muttered loud enough only for Dipper to hear.

Dipper nodded slowly, "Your choice, Norm."

With that, Norman put his foot on the back wheel and climbed in the truck bed, sitting quietly in the corner behind the driver's seat. The truck had gone a few miles when Dipper opened the back window of the truck, looking at Norman as the boy watched the passing sidewalks with an empty gaze.

"Do you still wanna know about Weirdmageddon?" Dipper asked, roughly, as if he regretted opening his mouth.

"Yeah..." Norman nodded, voice distant. "please."

After the story, Norman got an irritated look on his face, slamming his fist on the side of the truck beside him. It resonated with a loud, metallic thud.

"Whoa, Norm, what's wrong?" Dipper asked, confused by the teen's sudden outburst after his complete silence during the story.

"Hyle... I just realized it... She never told us how to kill that THING, just said it was dangerous-- so we basically just wasted the trip." Norman huffed, running his fingers through his unruly spikes.

"Not for nothing," Dipper offered, "at least we know what we're looking for."

"Do we, Dipper? I mean... how do we know how to kill something if we don't even know for sure what it is?" Norman asked, exhaling sharply. "I gotta check my cell, tell Wirt where I'm going..."

Dipper nodded, "In the mean time, I'll call Coraline and Wybie to give them a head's up."

While the boys were occupied with their calls, Mabel leaned her cheek against Wendy's shoulder to whisper so she wouldn't be heard, "That outburst earlier, that was unexpected, right?"

Wendy nodded stiffly, eyes focused on the road, "Yeah, did what Norman said about 'coming face to face with death before' bother you too?"

"I don't want to presume but he made it sound almost like he, you know, was bad off at some point, or something... if you get what I mean."

"I don't think that's what he meant, Mabel. It sounded more... out of his control than that. I don't know, everybody's got a story, maybe his is like ours... odd." Wendy offered, looking down the dirt road for the turn off to Main Street.

"You're probably right," Mabel nodded, sighing, "I'm probably just projecting."

As Wendy pulled up to the Mystery Shack, everyone but Wendy got out of the truck. They stood in a line waiting to send her off.

"I'm headed to the sheriff station to see if I can nab those files, I'll be back in the morning. Sleep well, guys. You'll need every second of that rest." Wendy told them, leaning toward the passenger side window to be heard more clearly. Dipper watched Wendy and felt unsure, felt nervous with the lurking danger and her not being nearby.

As if reading Dipper's expression, Wendy smiled, "Don't worry, Dipper. I still live with my dad... and he sleeps with a double-sided axe. I'll be fine."

Wendy drove off, leaving the three behind to walk inside and lock all the doors for the night. When they finished, they met Soos and Melody at the table as the couple ate, finally between whispered exchanges the three agreed that they deserved to know.

"Soos," Mabel started, then felt a lump rise in her throat, "Melody, we're going after the thing, person, whatever, killing these people in Gravity Falls and we all agreed you deserve to know."

"Thanks for telling us-" Soos started, his wife interrupting him with a touch of her hand on his.

"We're staying here, this is our home, so as long as you don't bring that stuff home with you, we will continue to support you three." Melody was firm, but empathetic, "I know it's a lot to ask of three teenagers, but please, don't bring other people into this dangerous situation you're putting yourselves into. Try to keep this separate from us, okay?"

Norman did not know the couple, so tried to not feel overwhelmingly offended at the selfish request but just nodded with the twins before following them up to their room. All the old decorations from their time before still there, names etched on the bed posts. Noticing the names made Norman smile a little.

"So this is our room," Mabel explained. "We'd split up but, since the extra room will be taken by our Gruncles when they get here, it's best to go ahead and settle in. Besides, it's safer in numbers."

"This is real life, Mabel," Dipper sighed, getting an extra pillow and blanket from the closet. "Not a horror movie."

"Dipper, our life is the equivalent of a Twilight Zone and X-Files love-child, who are you kidding?" Mabel countered, making Norman snort with laughter as he tried to muffle the sound with his palm.

"Touché." Dipper smiled a little, handing Norman the blanket and pillow, "If you don't mind, we'll be sharing the bed again-- although this one is a bit smaller. Beats the alternative of sleeping alone downstairs on the couch though, with everything that's going on."

To that, Norman agreed, "It's fine, so did you guys want to sleep now?"

Mabel yawned, stretching, "Early to bed, early to rise, I'll go ahead to sleep. You two stay up if you want, I'll put my headphones in."

Norman climbed onto the bed with the pillow and throw blanket, scooting against the wall before lying down and wriggling to find a comfortable position. Mabel got in her bed, put her phone on airplane mode and proceeded to put the headphones in her ears before turning to face the wall.

Dipper turned out the light as he stood by the switch, climbing into the bed before he lied on his back to stare at the ceiling.

"Hey, Dipper?" Norman whispered.

"Yeah?"

"I overheard Wendy and Mabel earlier... when I was talking about death did you think I meant-?"

"No," Dipper crossed his arms, not looking to find Norman beside him. The topic always made him uncomfortable, in fact, he always wanted to avoid it unless the conversation was absolutely necessary. "I didn't think you meant anything by it."

"It did mean something," Norman responded cryptically, "but not that..."

After a short silence, Norman scooted close on his side, his shoulder touching Dipper's as he faced Dipper who turned his head slightly, looking up at Norman, waiting for him to elaborate.

"Can I tell you something in confidence? Something you promise you won't tell anyone?" Norman asked.

"Sure, what is it?" Dipper asked hesitantly, usually it was after a promise was made that you wish you'd said no. However, this was not the case this time.

"I wanna tell you my story. You had Weirdmageddon, Coraline and Wy had Beldam, let me tell you my story." Norman whispered, Dipper gaining interest, a smile even grew onto the Pines boy's face. "But the best preface to give you, because it will come up later in the story so I don't need to interrupt myself later, is that I see ghosts. All of them. Not just sometimes. I see them everywhere I go, even in public bathrooms." Norman shivered at one particular disconcerting memory but moved along, " Anyway... So, it was close to the celebration of--"

And so Norman began to tell his story to Dipper who hung on every word, and unintentionally to Mabel-- who had yet to turn her music-- overhearing everything.

As the story wound down, Dipper had a complex expression as he processed the story.

"So when you said you're used to bruises... it's because you were bullied." Dipper muttered.

"Yeah," Norman whispered, voice only half-there.

"And when you said you weren't afraid to die..." Dipper asked, waiting for clarification.

"It's because lately I feel lost-- useless, I guess-- and it feels like I don't really hold any worth to anyone, or even myself, lately. It's hard. Sure, I help a couple souls find peace every now and then but other than that where will I end up? A starving-artist type, who's fate resembles that of a half-assed Tim Burton knock-off?"

"So you're scared?" Dipper asked, adjusting his arms tighter across his chest.

"Yeah, Dip." Norman uttered, halfway derisive, "I'm scared. I'm freaking terrified. That's why I am foaming at the mouth to pitch myself into a near-death situation so I may hopefully feel a grain of purpose again. That's the truth."

"I'm sorry," Dipper sighed. "If I had known your reasons, I wouldn't have been so hard on you. I feel... empty, you know... without having the rush of having death hang like a cloud over my head. It's making me force myself to live day to day without a purpose. I feel the same way you do, Norm."

Dipper began again, his voice suddenly shaking quietly. "Except, I'm so angry. I direct it at anyone and everything because I miss it. As much as I hated fearing for my life, I have never been so close to my sister or felt so alive. I can see it in her eyes sometimes, you know... I can see her mind working, thinking she's losing me. Things got really hard for me after Bill disappeared; my grades, social life, hobbies, even my relationship with my folks all tanked. I was drowning, but my sister flourished. Where I suddenly feared for what was around every corner, my sister welcomed it with open arms and was unafraid because she felt the Pines twins were invincible... but I'm the weak link."

Norman reached out to touch Dipper's shoulder, "Have you tried talking to your sister?"

"She probably knows, she knows me better than I know myself. She just doesn't know how to deal with me anymore. Maybe we fell too far apart, I guess." Dipper turned from his side to his back, watching the ceiling again.

Norman turned away from Dipper to face the wall after minutes of dead silence. Dipper turned onto his stomach, his eyes lingering on his sister before eventually falling asleep.

Mabel, awake only through part of Norman's retelling of his story (she fell asleep roughly around the time Norman had gotten around to the part about meeting Neil the first time), remained sound asleep.

Norman watched the wall as the chips in paint seemed to become a blurring story being told to him, a story that made less sense the more he watched it. He blinked a few times in the darkness, remembering the figure he'd seen at the side of the road. It was obviously a different spirit than the one he'd seen on the outside of the Bluebird's property.

This one, unlike the previous ghost, did not seem to be torn apart. Due to ghosts retaining the form they had upon death, the female spirit he saw was most likely a manifestation that happened to be a previous victim of whatever beast they were currently chasing, brutally torn to shreds; while the man was fully intact, as far as Norman could tell.

The man was bald and seemed old but because of the lack of facial hair on his head and face Norman could only guess his age based on the wrinkles that lined his face. He was at least sixty years old, that much Norman was sure of, but he couldn't say much more than that since he'd only seen that one in passing and didn't exactly get a very good look.

At this point in his ruminating, it became very apparent to Norman that whatever they were dealing with was way above the witch's-zombie-curse paygrade, although he still didn't understand the sense of foreboding that he just couldn't shake. He almost considered waking Dipper up, then decided it's be better off if they all just got their much-needed rest. After all, they had a big day ahead of them tomorrow and they needed to be at the top of their game.

Done devoting his thought to the sinking feeling in his gut, Norman wondered how possible it could be to cast a seal of protection the Shack from spirits; the last thing Norman needed was interference from a spirit with an attitude problem. He had just dealt with one earlier on in the year and it lead to a big fiasco at his new school.

It's hard enough being a new kid the last couple months into the year without having a screaming match with (what looked to normal people) as an old, bronze statue head of the school's founder (but was actually an old janitor for the school who had attached himself to the statue as his own kind of revenge against the founder, but I digress, that is a different story entirely).

Norman assumed they didn't know this story, and assumed correctly; Dipper did not hear this story as he was not privy to the school's gossip, and Mabel never made the connection because she tended to care less about school gossip and more about keeping updated with upcoming flicks and television shows. Norman, on the other hand, possessed inate instincts that come with being a wallflower, these instincts made it easy for him to gather information that others might overlook.

For instance, Dipper ate his lunch in the auditorium usually with a turkey sandwich in one hand and a pen in the other, typically doing what seemed to be maths homework. Mabel ate outside with her group of 8-12 friends.

The first week Norman arrived at the new school, he found solace in the theatre class that ignored him on stage, the first day he holed up within the auditorium, he was joined by Dipper who sat in the center seat in the middle row, crossing his right ankle over his left thigh as he used his leg as a prop to hold his notebook and homework. This particular seat was a staple to Dipper's daily school routine, he never waivered.

Norman's seat was in the back row, the row closed off on both sides as though it were boxing him in, the rest of the room a square he could only see the middle row and stage from. He recognized Dipper from class, and considered approaching him but decided against it.

The first week of school came and left as he went there every day, every day telling himself he could talk to Dipper, he could befriend him, but by the second week he moved from the auditorium to eating outside in the courtyard, sitting on a set of steps to the inside lobby, covered by an overhang. He was able to read his book easier outside in the natural lighting, but was on edge as movement constantly wound around him as the different lunch periods let out and returned to classes.

He stayed at this spot 3 school days before axeing the idea all together, and instead stayed in the classroom of his next period. The teacher only asked him once what Norman was doing there.

"I'm not hungry." Norman muttered, absorbed in his book.

The teacher never asked again, but occasionally left a granola bar at Norman's desk before he arrived for lunch. Norman always smiled in thanks when he left them, eating as he read. The teacher was not much of a talker, even during class instruction relying a lot of visual aid and slides to keep things moving, the class spoke individually when spoken to. Norman likened the teacher's demeanor to a Tommy Lee Jones-eque sympathetic figure, a person who cared but did not feel the need to bend over backward to show it, just preferred to keep his intentions clear only to those who paid attention. Perhaps he would be there if you needed a listening ear, but a request for advice would lead to silence. He admired the teacher who, in a way, reminded him of his grandmother in her unyielding honesty to a fault and her quiet affection.

From his seat in various classes, on a few occassions he heard the whispers of kids about a girl, Mabel Pines in particular. Norman had not made the connection until that moment, Mabel was the girl he had heard about. As he stared at the wall, he remembered their quiet praises:

"Did you see Mabel Pines today? Looks like she made a new sweater, do you think she'd make me one?"

"I heard Mabel Pines got a hundred percent on the pop quiz in Ms. Eileen's class, she and like one other person were the only ones who passed."

"Is Mabel here today?"

"No, just her brother."

"I wanted to partner with her for the art project, she always does so well on those."

"I have her number, just text her and ask if she doesn't mind."

"She said she's already got a partner."

"It's not her brother is it?"

"Nah, she said they don't have any classes together anymore. If they were, though, no one would ever get to be her partner."

Norman's stomach churned as he remembered, his thoughts turning to Dipper who always seemed alone. It dawned upon him slowly that he was alienating himself from his classmates too, just like Dipper was, but Norman hoped that by the end of the summer, he could find himself with two more friends. Norman's eyes eventually fell closed and he fell asleep with hopes that he would wake the next morning.

Norman blinked, darkness still meeting his eyes as he opened them, he could hear odd sounds and as he turned over he could see Dipper with his mouth hanging open with his eyes shot wide. Norman shot up in bed, nearly knocking into Dipper who was whimpering and watching something in front of him with horror. Norman squinted his eyes desperately in the darkness but saw nothing. His heart lept into his throat as he watched the muscles twitch violently in Dipper's hands.

Norman, grabbed Dipper roughly by the shoulders in despiration and shook him gently as he could in his frantic state, "Dipper! Dipper! DIPPER!"


	8. The Mystery Kids

Full chapter title: The Mystery Kids (Are On the Case)

* * *

The closer that Norman got to Dipper's face, the more he could see. As he reached over and pulled a cord to turn on a small desk lamp he saw how Dipper's eyes blinked violently, his eyes unfocused. Norman didn't sense any paranormal happenings, nor did he see any obvious signs of possession. He took a few breaths to steel himself and began leaning Dipper up, holding onto his arms. He was much more equiped for the paranormal; the mundane was unfamiliar territory.

"Dipper," he muttered quietly, trying to rub circles on his friend's elbows. He'd read somewhere that a grounding touch could bring someone out of a night terror but this was his first time watching one firsthand. It scared the shit out of him; to see Dipper's eyes open, and yet not be _there,_ but the situation seemed almost managable compared to a paranormal problem.

Suddenly, there was the sound of heavy footfalls bounding up the stairs, finally responding to Norman's yells.

Dipper began calming, blinking more slowly as his vision came into focus. Dipper's open mouth, which had been dripping with drool in his fugue, began to close. Dipper began swallowing normally, albeit manually, still dazed when Mabel began waking up, taking out her headphones without bothering to pause the song, and moving to their bedside as Soos watched from afar.

"Night terror," Norman told the two, focusing on Dipper and keeping his hands on the boy's elbows, rubbing small circles on them with his thumbs as Dipper began to regain himself.

"N... Norman. I saw-... Bill... I was reliving my possession. " Dipper supplied, leaning his forehead on Norman's shoulder as he tried to force himself to breathe steady. "It was awful... It was like I was feeling it all over again. The sensation of spiders under my skin... The burning behind my eyes... His voice in my head... I thought I was over it..."

Mabel sat beside Dipper then, wrapping an arm around him to hug him, "You don't just _get over_ that, Dipper. It's not possible. I have my own share of nightmares, it's not always as easy as just getting over it..."

Soos spoke, "If you dudes want, I can sleep up here on the floor with you."

Dipper shook his head slowly, his throat dry, "Thank you, but I'll be okay. I just... need to go back to sleep."

Norman eyed Dipper with suspicion, but Mabel just nodded, giving her brother a brief and tight hug before returning to her bed, opting to not listen to music in her sleep this time. Mabel wanted to be able to wake up easily, just in case.

Soos left begrudgingly, not closing the door all the way. He opted to sleep in the room down the hall for the rest of the night to soothe his worries about Dipper.

Norman left the bedside lamp on, moving back to his position with his face against the wall, the coolness calming him some. His heart still beat rapidly in his chest, scared on behalf of Dipper as well as the whole situation itself. He steadied his breathing as his breath hit the wall and warmed his face.

He had nearly forgotten this part about the incident in Blithe Hollow. He had forgotten that beyond the excitement, danger never left you alone- even when you tried to sleep. This danger felt like eyes in the darkness, feeling them watching you, but unable to see them; much too scared to turn on the light and reveal your suspicions to be correct.

Norman's daze was halted when he felt a shaky hand tugging lightly at the end of his shirt. Norman turned over to see Dipper near tears. Norman never really learned how to soothe the crying of someone other than himself, so the shock showed easily though he tried to hide it. Even more so, Norman appreciated the trust Dipper showed by allowing himself to be vulnerable, but Norman kept these thoughts to himself.

"I'm sorry Norm, I don't wanna weird you out but... I just-" Dipper whispered apprehensively, hoping his sister wouldn't hear him welling up. "I k-keep seeing his face and my eyes, what I did... I just-"

Norman merely turned to face Dipper, scooting himself closer. Dipper, reaching out a hand and gripping the end of Norman's shirt, felt almost grounded in the reality in the feeling of the cotton material. The material wound up in Dipper's white-knuckled grip pulled the shirt at an odd angle. Norman was unable to notice the sharp crescent nail marks Dipper left on his own enclosed fist.

"I'm here," Norman whispered. "I'm here..." he yawned, "You're okay. You're good, Dip. He's gone."

Dipper felt his breath hitch occasionally as he forced air to and from his lungs, but he held the tears back, nodding. The whole thing with Bill had been traumatizing; he'd had nightmares about Bill off and on since Weirdmageddon, but not nearly as bad as the night terror he just experienced. He could only think it had to do with coming back to Gravity Falls.

"Don't think less of me," Dipper whispered.

"Shut up," Norman muttered wrapping an arm around Dipper and putting his head against the boy's shoulder, "Trauma is nothing to be ashamed of. Hold on if you need to. I know it'd be weird if you tried to with Mabel. It's okay. You're my friend. I want you to feel safe." Norman stifled a yawn as he spoke, voice thick with sleep.

"You sure?" Dipper asked, the memory of those years ago- looking in the mirror and seeing yellow eyes in his reflection- making his fingers shake.

"Yeah, Dip. It's not weird. Wake me up if you need anything, okay?" Norman whispered near Dipper's ear.

Dipper tried to get comfortable with Norman's arm holding him close, having to squeeze closer so Norman's arm would reach. Dipper really noticed Norman's height now, how Dipper was nearly a head taller if you didn't include Norman's hair. He curled up a little to get more comfortable, eyes slowly getting heavy.

"Norman?"

"Yeah, Dip?"

"Is your hair always this poke-y? Like, it's soft but ticklish," Dipper uttered, already half-asleep.

"Usually I wear beanies to bed, my hair goes back into shape automatically anyway." Norman yawned again, pulling the larger of the two covers over them.

Dipper laughed quietly, punch drunk from fatigue, "Like a good-luck-troll doll."

Norman laughed quietly too, "Mhm..."

As the seconds passed, they both eventually fell asleep. Dipper had more nightmares that night, but most involved losing Cash Cab over and over in a neverending cycle. Norman dreamed of twins, oddly familiar ones that he just couldn't quite place.

Mabel stayed up a little while longer that night, smiling to herself and thanking her lucky stars. She worried about her brother facing things alone, but it seemed like it may not be just the Pines twins versus the world anymore. Maybe a few others may be able to enter their circle. Maybe they could be their own group, a new group.

Mabel smiled, remembering her talk with Greg, _The Mystery Kid is on the case!_ She remembered herself saying, then smiled. _Good name for us, "The Mystery Kids"_ , she thought to herself. _After all, "The Detective Boys" is already taken_.

Mabel dreamed she was in the woods, surrounded by a sea of trees so dense she could not see outside the clearing she stood within. Reaching out a hand, she could not move as the black spherical stone at her feet began to take shape into an animal, one after the next it metamorphisized into a variety of creatures until nothing was there anymore. After the dream ended, she fell into a deep sleep devoid of dreams or nightmares. In the back of her mind, she sensed an omen in the stone she'd seen. _Perhaps_ , she thought, _things aren't what they seem?_

Coraline stood in front of Wybie's door, hand outstretched towards the knob as she stood debating whether or not to go in. Wybie had a tendency to stay up late usually until about 4 am, but after not hearing any sounds coming from his room she wondered if he'd gone to sleep early (for once). Her watch on her wrist read 3:33am, and it made her skin crawl.

Despite being exhausted, she couldn't bring herself to sleep through the forboding feeling that seemed to hover thickly in the air. Looking to her to the top drawer of her dresser, her junk drawer, she had found her thoughts stuck on the little wooden box she'd tucked away, wrapped in her old scarf. She had opened the box, removed its contents, and spread them on the table. Immediately, she felt fear claw at her at what the cards told her. Time and time again, revealing the same answers, she knew it couldn't be a coincidence. Not with the Beldam's cards, she had to tell Wybie.

And so there she was, hovering wordlessly outside his door in desperate hope he was awake. However, after a moment of collecting herself, she knocked at his door with cards in hand. Wybie took one look at the tarot cards in her hand and frowned.

"What'd the cards say?" Wybie asked, pulling up Coraline a chair to sit beside his bed.

"That's the weird thing." Coraline answered, plopping into her chair as her eyes squinted in wonder at the pitch black backs of the tarot. "I shuffled and then drew 5 seperate times and they all say the same thing: same cards, same orientation- no matter how I rephrase the question. Two of Cups with normal orientation, Ace of Wands inverted, and The Tower with normal orientation."

Wybie nodded seriously a few times, a serious expression on his face before looking back at Coraline and the look falling away. "Okay, I honestly didn't follow that. You forget I dropped out of your 'lessons' when you were teaching me all that tarot stuff. "

Coraline rolled her eyes, groaning, holding Ace of Wands in one hand, Two of Cups in the other.

"Pay attention- I'll only explain this once- I have to call the twins and warn them, so I don't have a lot of time. Two of Cups in the upright position in the first spot in the trio means the past is dominated by healthy relationships, friendships, teamwork- if you wanna call it that- so clearly that means all of us, right? The second spot is the present with the Ace of Wands inverted means selfishness, loss of motivation, unforseen setbacks, so there's either something wrong that they aren't telling us or more likely, they don't even know about. And _that,_ " she pointed at the Tower card still lying beside her with disdain, her mouth pulling at the corners in discomfort and worry. " _That_ is really bad news, Wy. That card has a lot of meanings so I can't place the importance exactly since it hasn't happened yet but I _can_ say that none of those meanings are good. We're all way in over our head, they've gotta know that by now, right?"

Coraline's voice drifted out, picking all the cards up in her hands and staring at them as though she planned to bore holes in them with her gaze. Wybie reached to his desk, grabbed his cell phone and made the call, a groggy Norman answering the phone.

"Norman, it's Wybie. Coraline's got a bad feeling and I think we all need to talk. All five of us." Wybie spoke slowly enough for Norman to understand and to grasp the gravity of the words before continuing. "Either all of us need to talk on speaker or we need to meet up immediately. I can't really explain this in a couple of words. It's... It's a lot."

...

Norman looked at Dipper who was half asleep on the bed, Dipper watching him with half-lidded exhausted eyes. Mabel was soundless in her sleep, unmoving with even, shallow breaths.

"Let's meet at The Bluebird Inn, it's a halfway point between the both of us. Take lit streets only. If your grandmother can drive you, ask her to. I really don't want us to be wandering in the dark like this but I doubt we have a choice anymore...Yeah, see you there...No, don't worry about packing anything it'll take you longer- just essentials... Bring the cards too, anything important we can use... Superstitious or not, seems like that's the only thing on our side right now. Sure, you too, stay on main roads. Bye."

Norman went to his bag and pulled a handful of items out, emptying out his plastic grocery bag of dirty clothes and stuffing the items inside before tying it off and wrapping the handle around his wrist. Making sure he pulled his phone from the charger, he pat Mabel on the shoulder until she woke with a start.

"Norman? What's wrong?" Her voice was thick and rough with sleep.

"Wybie called. We have to meet at the inn, something's wrong." Norman spoke quickly, taking Dipper's phone from his charger and tossing it onto the boy's chest.

"More than the monster on the loose?" Dipper muttered sardonically.

"Coraline's tarot cards, which used to belong to a witch, are talking to her and I'm not dumb enough to ignore a sign like that. It's bad. Come on." Norman spit back, pulling on his shoes, stuffing his socks in his pocket to put on later.

Mabel slunk out of bed, getting her phone out of the dresser, still tired from her few hours of rest and pulled on a pair of her hiking boots over her socks. Dipper was already ready, having sprung up at the moment's notice, pulled on his sneakers without tying them and walking out of the bedroom.

"Leaving a note." He threw over his shoulder as Norman and Mabel walked out of the house ahead of him.

 _Something's wrong, we'll be at Bluebird Inn, we'll try to stay in touch. Thanks, guys. - DM & N_

As the three walked alone towards the Bluebird Inn, the moon shone brightly above without a star in sight.

 _ **A.N.**_

 _ **To whomsoever it may concern: The Detective Boys is a Detective Conan reference and if you got that reference please tell me in the comments so I can give you a well-deserved pat on the back for your good taste in manga/anime**_.


	9. Until Dawn

Norman and the Pines twins made it to the inn first, taking a quick walk around the perimeter before quietly using a spare key taped under the doormat. Norman almost risked knocking when he noticed a soft light from the living room, this light he readily placed as Wirt likely haven fallen asleep while watching television. Norman decided against waking Wirt due to the late hour.

They slunk quietly inside, setting a few belongings down on the shoe cabinet near the door. Upon hearing no sound from the tv, they all noticed that the cable had been turned off but the television set still on. The soft bluish light from the inactive AV input cast an eerie glow onto their faces. Norman guarded the window by the door to quietly let Wybie and Coraline in when they arrived, using the spare time to put socks on and put his shoes back on.

"So, a witch's tarot, huh? Bet that was on your list of things you thought you'd never hear." Dipper whispered quietly to Mabel, trying to joke to ease the tension they all felt.

"Frankly, Dip, I'm too jaded at this point to even really be surprised anymore. The monster has been the only surprise so far." Mabel could barely keep her eyes open from drowsiness, leaning her head against the back of the loveseat. "We'll make it out of this, right?"

"I want to comfort you," Norman interrupted, "but I'm sure this is only the beginning."

"Why do you say that?" Mabel asked.

"Is it _that_?" Dipper nuanced.

"Yeah, there's been a victim hanging around this house. She's... scared for us." Dipper realized he hadn't told Mabel about his gift, turning quickly to face her. "Mabel, I can-"

"I know, the whole 'I see dead people' thing, right? Didn't mean to eavesdrop but I overheard you two talking about seeing your friend's dog. It's cool, Norman. I had a crush on a merman, a bunch of gnomes... So we are all listed under Odd in the dictionary. No big deal."

Norman wished he could enjoy the unimpressed way they reacted, unlike anyone else he had ever told. No exaggerated reactions of disbelief, disgust, sympathy, or shock. This thought was then interrupted as an unaccompanied Wybie and Coraline stepped onto the wooden porch and eased open the screen door to be let in.

"So, here's the short version-" Coraline recounted the situation as she took off her jacket and shoes and sat on the arm of the couch. She did not bother explaining how they walked there so quickly without being driven. (They had taken a shortcut through the forest and ran the entire way, something they did not plan on divulging to the older three.)

Coraline took to leaning forward dramatically towards the coffee table, cards in hand. To prove the validity of her story, she shuffled and dealt the cards six times. Each time she shuffled, regardless of for how long or how she shuffled she managed to get the same cards, placement, and orientation every time.

"The Beldam Witch's tarot is no joke. Her residual energy was infused into the deck itself- Coraline found them hidden in the floorboards under the old house. Anyhow, that being said, we can't change our fatebut now that we know what is happening we can be more prepared for it." Wybie chimed in.

"Wouldn't that just be self-fulfilling prophecy then, since now we know what will happen?" Mabel asked, yawning as she spoke.

"If you believe in that kind of thing," Norman muttered more to himself than to anyone as he stared out the window in a daze. Norman's eyes lingered on the spirit outside the window across the street, the one he had seen before from Wendy's truck. It just _wouldn't_ dissipate.

"Anyway," Dipper huffed, scrunching his face before wiping the sour expression away with his hand. "The point is: we get along fine, then something goes wrong and we lose momentum, then something goes _really wrong._ Am I understanding this right, Cor?"

"More or less... I mean, the big recurring theme of The Tower is destruction and in our case the only clear line I can draw in the sand is that it's a physical upheaval. Everything will change. I mean- I guess that could be a positive thing but the odds are stacked against us in terms of having any kind of positives here."

"What's all the fervent whispering about?" Wirt rasped, hair sticking straight up and eyes half-open.

The five let out various reactions of surprise that ranged from Mabel's startled yell to Coraline almost falling off the couch armrest in surprise. Wirt shushed them in a fatigue-induced exaggerated fashion before sitting by Norman who remained by the window. "People are trying to sleep."

"The thing we're after," Norman spoke in a borderline monotone, "its killing can't be random... Something has to connect them..." Norman's distant gazing out the window suddenly sharpened and his head snapped back to the attention of the group. "Dipper! Do you think Wendy can look up personal histories of the victims?"

"Uh, I can try to ask," Dipper muttered, unsure, but getting out his phone and texting deliberately. "I'm on it."

"What makes you think that they're related?" Coraline quipped. "According to the news it has no pattern."

Shocked at her sharp tone, "Call it a hunch, I guess." he defended.

"We can't move solely on a hunch!" Mabel interjected.

"Got any better ideas?" Dipper drug his eyes from his phone for a moment to look crossly at his sister who put up her hands in mock surrender.

"Sure. Fine. You win. When we hear back from Wendy we need to make a game plan and work fast. Probably don't have a lot of time to stop this thing- who's to say it won't leave Gravity Falls once it's had its fill? It could become an epidemic, especially if it can turn others." Mabel conceded, worry laced in her voice. "All this is giving me a bad feeling."

"Usually that's the body's way of telling you you're in over your head and you need to retreat." Wirt crossed his arms, "Believe me, listening to the little voice in your head that screams danger does a lot of good." A couple of the kids turned to Wirt, frowning. "You guys seriously forgot I was standing here, didn't you?"

Dipper spoke up then faltered to a hush as to avoid waking those trying to sleep at the inn, "Wendy said it's doable. Finding access to the names of victims and possible criminal records are easy enough but beyond that only the deed information and death certificates in the library archives may be of any use. She is worried it may be too risky to get access to coroners' reports firsthand but she may be able to relay information since she and the coroner's daughter used to date and still holds a torch for Wendy."

Mabel exhaled, "Huh. Wendy didn't seem like the type to date a coroner's daughter."

"Yeah, I thought the same thing. I asked. She said it's because she was a, uh, how did she put it," he scrolled to her message and relayed it aloud. " 'She was a lolita girl and bubblegum goth and I was a hundred percent there for it. Also she always tasted like butterscotch, so ya know, _yum_.' The 'yum' was in all caps, hence my emphasis."

Wirt exhaled sharply, irritated, "Is that really relevant right now, you guys?"

"Right," Coraline nodded, "So it seems like all this info has to be read through and cross-checked, then we have to find a motive, yeah? Where can we find info on what we're looking for?"

"Hate to say it, but it could be a number of things," Mabel shrugged. "We assume it's a werewolf because it looks like a dog but there are dozens of legendary or mythical dog-like creatures that probably exist. After I found out about manotaurs I won't rule anything out."

"So we could easily be looking at a simple werewolf or something else entirely-" Norman shrugged. "Just off the top of my head I can think of werewolves, hellhounds, skinwalkers, chupacabra, or even chimera can all be canine-like and possible to mistake for one another. We need motive, then we can find out what it is from that."

"So the point is-" Wybie hissed sardonically, "Since you guys insist Coraline and I are not allowed the danger of being boots on the ground, we're stuck to the responsibility of research duty. Am I getting this right?"

"It would be extremely helpful;" Mabel admitted, "if we split up, then we can work different angles."

Coraline stood, "Frankly, I'm okay with not seeing the main action. I'm still recovering from Beldam, so you guys go for it. Wybie, looks like all those folklore and mythology books at the library have our names on them."

Wybie sighed, only half relieved that he was staying out of the crosshairs with Coraline. Coraline being around was always a silver lining.

"You can set up shop here," Wirt instructed to Wybie and Coraline, "I've got a couple of books in the truck that may help and I can go by the library and get the books for you in the morning- well, daytime. This house is warded from most negative entities I know about, so you should be safe here."

"And you guys," Wirt continued to the other three children. "Stay safe, okay? I don't want any of you guys getting hurt. What you're doing is adult business, it's dangerous."

"My Grunkles Stan and Ford should be coming in any day, they're experienced in these matters too," Dipper assured, "but we can't wait on them or more people may die."

"I just don't want you guys going home to your families in wooden boxes, okay?" Wirt choked on his words but steadied himself. "I'm taking charge as primary caregiver for you guys right now. You're all involved and this is the safest place to be. I'm calling Wybie's grandmother and Soos at the Shack come daylight so they'll understand that your safety requires you to be here; plus that way they do not get harmed just for being nearby. The only guests I have right now are leaving in the morning and I'll call to cancel the other bookings so this place is empty except for us."

"Wirt, the money you'll be turning away-" Norman interjected, standing to look at him.

"My bank account can take a hit, you guys may not be able to take the hits alone. I'm here for you guys. Gregg will be here too. Just focus, I'll take care of your meals. Just get everything you need here in the morning, settle in different rooms and you'll basically be under house arrest 'til you three" he pointed at Norman and the twins, "need to get out there. This is home base, it'll be safe. I'll double the wardings and artifacts just to be sure of its potency."

A couple beats of silence ensued as everything sunk into their minds. They were back at The Bluebird Inn, this time without much of a choice. The plan was nearly set but until dawn arrived all that could be done was to wait and rest.

The kids filed into a empty room, the three boys deciding to share the bed and the girls on the daybed in the corner of the room. None had considered splitting rooms, finding comfort in numbers and fading fast towards sleep.

"I used to use the cards a lot," Coraline whispered to a barely-conscious Mabel after the boys had all fallen asleep, "after Beldam, they brought me peace for a while. Because I knew they were imbued with her magic, I knew their accuracy would give me a sense of control when I asked the cards how to solve my troubles. Now I feel like the cards are just taunting me because I don't know how to fill the blanks in the reading."

"There's no real such thing as control, you know," Mabel whispered back to her, "it's all an illusion. There's a great cycle happening around us and with every breath the wheel turns whether we like it or not. Not that there's a set path in life- nothing's set in stone- but, control isn't important. All you need is understanding that change can occur with intervention, but only to a humanly possible extent." Mabel yawned, signalling the heavy drowsiness betraying her. "We'll do what we can. It's all we can do. Either we succeed, fail, or die trying; but they could happen together and in different succession, so why worry? Just live for now. We'll worry later. Right now, we need sleep."

With that, the mystery kids all fell asleep into their fitful dreams of screams ripping painfully from the throats of deformed corpses, people fallen victim to a beast; the victims no longer able to retain their faces or names beneath the gore and the grime of forest muck.


	10. Tale of Tales

Wybie was the first to wake up, finding himself curled up against Norman for warmth during the night. Slightly embarrassed, he eased his way out of the bed and, finding everyone asleep, made his way out to the hallway. Being the lightfooted boy he was, he walked all the way down the stairs and out the front door without anyone waking up. Barefoot and wearing his pajamas, he made his way to the opening of the woods behind the house that he and Coraline had cut through the night before to get to the Bluebird Inn as quickly as possible.

They both had ran as fast as they could in fear last night, despite the actual woods not giving off any ill-intention. Now, though he couldn't see the woods, he got an eerie feeling in that direction. Putting his relaxing outdoor excursion behind, he stepped into the lush grass.

The grass smelled strong and the dew soaked the bottoms of his pants legs as he walked. The sun had risen at least a few hours ago but everyone was exhausted from the night before, and rightfully so. However, Wybie had never been one to sleep very well.

At this time of morning he usually took a walk but with the danger going on he settled with staying in the yard. The closer he got to the woods, the heavier his feet felt and the more he wanted to go back inside.

At the treeline of the woods his hair stood on end, a primal instinct that something was inside the woods. He could practically feel it watching him. Whatever it was.

When he took another step forward he paused at the sight of a boy about his age walking with purpose away from him through the brush and disappearing in the thicket.

Wybie thrust ahead to pursue the figure, wanting to demand why he was spying on the inn. However, upon seeing thick tendrils of poison oak and thorned vines in his path, he returned towards the house.

He wondered after the boy deeply enough that when he walked back in through the front door he bumped into the guests as they prepared to leave.

"Sorry," he muttered, helping them right the suitcase he nearly knocked over. He held the door open as they left and closed and locked it quietly behind them. All the guests gone. Just Wirt and all the kids left.

He turned his head towards the direction of the woods, body still facing the door.

"Up and out already, Wybie? You should be staying in the house." Wirt chided, leaning his temple on the check-in desk. "What's that spacey look for?"

"Saw some guy watching the house from the woods, or least I think it was a guy. I didn't see their face." Wybie whispered, "But I don't wanna jump to conclusions."

Wirt's face grew serious, "Don't go outside again. We can't take any chances. The second you cross that threshold all the talismans and charms I have guarding the house are useless to you. Anything you need from town I can bring to you."

Wybie nodded, more out of habit than actually listening to what Wirt said. He was irritated he was going to lose his freedom to roam around like he was used to, but remembered that odd figure again and laid on the couch prepared to take a nap. Wybie's body felt heavy from the adrenaline kick he got at the treeline.

The more he tried to remember the features of the person he saw, the more the colors and shapes in his mind seemed to lose form. He couldn't even remember the shade of their skin, or the color of their hair, or even if it really was a boy.

"I'm going to go in the book mobile and get some books from the library," Wirt handed Wybie a cordless landline phone and checked his pockets for his wallet and keys. "Any emergency, call me. Even if it's about Gregg trying to sneak out to catch frogs again, I wanna know about it, okay?"

"Yeah," Wybie sighed, his nap was going to have to wait until Wirt returned. "Thanks."

"I really am sorry about you guys having to stay here, I just want you all to be safe."

"I know," Wybie muttered, scratching his ear. "Mind if I call my grandma?"

"Call whoever you need to, just minimize 800, 900, and international calls."

"Right," Wybie half-smiled, rolling his eyes. "O-kay."

"Good boy," Wirt clicked his tongue with a wink and finger-pistol.

"You're turning into a middle-aged-dad overnight." Wybie advised, "You might want to regain your youth before everyone wakes up or you'll never hear the end of it."

"Right," Wirt nodded curtly, "be back in a bit. Don't leave the house."

"I won't." Wybie assured. "Now go- unless you want me to make charred eggs for breakfast."

Wirt shuddered, muttered an assurance and left through the back door.

Wybie made the call to his grandmother who answered on the second ring, assuring her he was safe and telling her about how the house was warded.

"Warded?" she asked, "What the hell does that mean?"

He surpressed a laugh, he rarely heard his grandmother curse anymore.

"Like, enchanted objects with protection spells cast on them- you know, like Great-Aunt Ninny's rosary."

" _That's a Catholic thing, it's not 'enchanted'. Her priest gave it to her when_ -" Wybie could practically see her doing air-quotes as she pattered on with her story.

"It was just an example," Wybie grumbled, cutting her short as he rubbed the bridge of his nose to satiate his irritation.

He loves the woman but it's hard to explain the _unexplainable_ to a woman that spends all day cleaning, cooking, or watching reruns of stand-up comedy routines.

"Anyway, Coraline and I are safe, we will be fine so make sure you don't go out at night. If you go at all, use the car and stick to well-lit roads. If you need anything, I'll head over."

" _Be safe Wyborn, okay? I don't wanna lose you like I lost your mama. I can't go through that again_."

"Of course, Grams... If I died I couldn't eat your cooking anymore." he joked.

" _WYBORN PACHU'A LOVAT, WHY I OUGHTA_ -" Mrs. Lovat screeched.

"Bad joke," Wybie giggled. "Yeah, yeah, I know..."

...

Norman walked in the living room quietly to see Wirt but after taking a look around and noticing Wirt's van gone and Wybie- the only other person awake- on the phone, he figured now would be a good time to catch up with Gregg.

He opened the door with an obnoxious squeak, causing Gregg to bolt upright in bed with a giant, inflated baseball bat in his hand.

"I'll get you cloud ma-!" Gregg yelled, bat at the ready. Realizing who had entered the room, though, lowered the bat. "Oh, hi, Normie. Had a dream about the cloud again."

"You okay, Gregg? You seem different since I saw you last." Norman asked, sitting on the edge of the bed.

Gregg set the bat down on the floor next to the bed, "Lived with mom and dad when you saw me last."

"Right, sorry." Norman cringed.

"I almost died in The Wood, Normie, it's weird."

"Yeah, that's a traumatic thing."

"What's it feel like, for people to believe you?"

"What do you mean?" Norman shifted his feet, his cousin's sudden seriousness offputting.

"Believe you see ghosts, believe about the zombies, the witch... How does it feel?"

"I don't know... exactly," Norman leaned back into the wall, "most of the people that believe me were there, except for you guys, that's why I moved to California. I had a target on my back worse than before. Became a sideshow attraction. I just... I missed being invisible."

"I miss not knowing things," Gregg whispered, "I miss being dumb."

"You've never been dumb, Gregg, maybe ignorant or naïve..."

"Well, that, then..." Gregg paused, glancing at a stray shoe in the corner of the room. "I miss Jason Funderberker."

"Your frog?"

"Mhm," Gregg smiled, "he left to go be in a kid's movie somewhere. He said he could sing in it, Jazz I think. He had a nice voice, so that's good."

"Gregg?"

"Yeah?"

"You know what me and the others are doing, right?"

Gregg nodded, "None of you are good at talking quiet."

"So will you promise to stay here in the house and stay safe when some or all of us leave to go take care of that Thing?"

"I promise. I have had enough of 'Beasts' for this lifetime. Maybe the pale one and the slouchy one need help looking up stuff."

"Yeah," Norman sighed, relieved he didn't need to convince Gregg, for what it was worth. "You're a good help."

"Thanks, Normie, I try." Gregg then paused, stared at the ceiling for a moment before looking back at Norman. "Everyone's awake now, I hear sets of feet on the stairs."

"Good hearing." Norman praised.

"One of them steps like an elephant."

Norman laughed then listened, hearing loud thumps. "You aren't wrong. Think that's Coraline and her combat boots."

Leaving Gregg's door open, Norman peered into the hall to see Mabel trying on Coraline's heavy boots and, based on the sound of them clomping around on the wooden floor, were clearly too big for Mabel's feet.

Gregg laughed, peeking out from behind Norman, "She looks like a duck."

Mabel waddled, lifting her feet a little too high with every step to get used to the weight of the boots.

"I heard that!" Mabel yelled, causing Gregg to laugh even more.

They all made their way to the kitchen, Wirt walking through the back door with large brown paper bags, one with grease seeping through the side.

"Got everyone some breakfast at the diner and got about 7 books, all I could really find. Sorry, guys." Wirt set his keys on the hook and set the food on the counter, the books on the coffee table. "Dig in."

Apprehensively, everyone took food from the large portions stored in styrofoam to-go containers, the books in the corner of the room weighing down the otherwise pleasant mood.

Eventually, as they ate, they all loosened up enough to talk amongst themselves with varied degrees of attention and mood. Gregg was sneakily picking food off Wirt's plate. Wybie occasionally leaned in to Coraline's ear to whisper over the noise of various conversations. Mable was eating her pancakes into the shapes of woodland creatures then laughing as she'd eat various "limbs".

Norman and Dipper sat beside each other, not really talking to the others outside of occasional comments about the food. Dipper was watching his food as if it held clues. Norman picked and played at his food, only eating a few bites here and there.

Norman and Dipper made eye contact, a heavy sigh and a weak smile being shared. Danger or not, small moments of false security were nice.

The Beast awoke to the chirping of birds outside the opening of the cave. Growling, he buried his head in his arms, nails digging into the dirt floor, coarse hair standing on end. Too loud. Everything was _too loud._

The body of the Beast was large and imposing, hunching so its back did not reach the roof of the cave. Hunger ripped at its stomach, pain aching through its body. Opening its mouth to yawn, its yellowed teeth bared wide with gums pink and saliva dripping from its mouth. When stretching its back, it noticed blood coating its paws where it tore into its last victim, brown flakes coating his claws. It licked at the blood, helping to minimally reduce the evidence of its kill.

Soon, it gave up, comfortable by now of the feeling of being caked in blood.

On the other side of the cave, hiding in the shadows from the light of day was a fire that had long since burned to ash. Coating a nail with ash, it drew small images in the ground. A reminder.

"Dead," it growled, the guttural voice vibrating in the quiet cave. "All dead."

 _ **A.N.**_

 _ **I am basing Mrs. Lovat on my own grandmother. Although my gran is very fond of calling me... creative names when I'm being ornery ^w^; hehehe**_

 _ **Also the movie Jason Funderberker is in is a reference and if you get it, I will be super proud.**_


	11. The Breakfast Club

With breakfast done, the Mystery Kids took the bags of books to the living room and each took a book. Sitting at various spots in the room, they began to read (or in Wybie's case, skim-with-purpose).

Gregg watched cartoons quietly, listening to the sighs and turning of pages beside him. Wirt was cleaning the upstairs bedrooms so the kids could spread out and each get their own room, despite having the gut feeling that they would still want to stay together regardless.

Norman was the first to finish a book, tossing it on the table and letting out an exasperated groan, "This is useless. Hyle has to know more than she's letting on, we will make no progress this way!"

Mabel scoffed, not looking up from her book, "What would she have to gain by lying to us, Norman?"

"I don't know, maybe she's in kahoots with it!" Norman put his face in his hands and screamed into them, muttering to himself. "At least with the witch I knew what I was up against..."

"What are we, chopped liver?" Coraline nudged Norman with her foot. "We're _all_ in this, we _all_ have to deal with this."

After a couple of minutes there was a subdued knock at the front door, Wybie got up to answer it and after some quiet words exchanged, looked at the others with an odd look on his face.

"Some old guys are here looking for the twins." Wybie announced, Dipper and Mabel sharing a glance.

"Damn, kid, did no one teach you manners?" A gruff voice chided.

"Where is Dipper and Mabel?" Another voice followed.

"Grunkle Stan? Grunkle Ford?" Dipper jumped up, followed by Mabel who tackled their great-uncles with a hug.

"We took a plane, believe it or not. Good on you, Dipper, for paying extra for express delivery." Ford rubbed Dipper's head.

"Aren't you a sight for sore eyes?" Stan smiled at Mabel, then his smile fell. "We were actually on our way back but we got your letter and took a plane instead. We heard from Soos about a strange death and it seemed... supernatural... so we were trying to come back, but when we realized you kids were here again... Yeah. So here we are."

"So what are we hunting down, exactly?" Stan asked, noticing all the other kids in the room waved half-heartedly and stepped inside.

"Your guess is as good as ours, honestly." Norman sighed, laying his head down on a book in defeat.

"Your motivation is inspiring." Stan deadpanned, "Let's get you kids out of the house for a while, we'll talk somewhere."

"We're under house arrest." Wybie interjected, leaning up against the front door. "Can't."

"You'll be safe with us," Ford assured. "It will only be for a little while. Where is your caretaker?"

"Wirt, he's my cousin, he's in charge of Coraline and Wybie too. He's upstairs."

"And you are?"

"I'm Gregg." Gregg responded.

"My name is Norman," he smiled at Gregg who was grinning to himself. "Gregg is my cousin too."

The uncles nodded to themselves and Ford headed upstairs while Stan stayed with the group.

"So what direction are we going in with this?"

"We know it's doglike and likes tearing people apart." Mabel responded, "That's about it."

"Do we know if it actually _ate_ anyone?" Stan asked.

The kids looked at each other in shock, they hadn't even thought of that. Were they _sure_ if this thing ate anyone? The kills were predatory, sure, but could it have been territorial?

"We don't know," Dipper answered. "Wendy said she is gonna try to get coroner's reports."

"That girl will always be a troublemaker." Stan grumbled to himself.

"That _girl_ is our best bet right now," Wirt snapped, leaning against the stair railing. "Coroner reports are the best chance we have of getting any leads, Stanley Pines."

"So you're Wirt, huh? The squirt always called you Conehead, never knew you were the owner of Bluebird."

"Am I missing something?" Coraline whispered to herself. Wybie shrugged with a lax expression in response.

"Gregg used to go to the Mystery Shack a lot when we first moved here, made pretty good friends with Stan here and Soos too. I, on the other hand, prefer to keep away from tourist traps. The woods by the Shack gives me the creeps." Wirt explained to no one in particular, almost as if he was doing a development reveal for the sake of story progression.

"Creeps, why? You scared of something, Wart?"

"Wirt. And no, it's just that I get a bad feeling around there. I know what danger feels like and I trust my gut."

"You worried about the big shadow monster?" Stan asked mockingly, much to the discomfort of Ford who looked at though he wanted to step in.

"Shadow monster?" Dipper squinted, "... There was something like that in the journal."

"The hide-behind," Ford argued, "is a trickster at best. Harmless."

"Ever considered there is more than one? How do you know they're all harmless?" Wirt asked, hands shaking a little at the familiar fear of remembering the Forest Beast and his lantern. "Gregg... You told him?"

Gregg nodded quietly, eyes glued to the floor, "I told Soos, he said he wouldn't tell, but I guess he told him anyway. The Stans said they knew what it was, and knowing would make it less scary for us..."

"Well are you satisfied, Gregg? Did it help?"

A silence fell, the Gruncles seeing their opprotunity to leave, slipped out without a word. They'd get the kids out of the house later when Wirt cooled off.

"No," Gregg whispered, "because that means there may be more than one."

Wirt sighed, "So this 'Hide-Behind' is the Forest Beast, what does it matter?"

"It means that there is rarely ever _just_ one of anything. Whatever we're dealing with may not be the only one in the world. Look at doppelgangers, they're in practically every country's myth somehow. This thing may not be working alone." Dipper explained with frustration.

"Oh god, that is the _last_ thing we need to hear right now." Mabel whispered, putting her face in her hands.

"Chill, Mabel, we can handle this. All of us are in this together." Wybie assured, reaching over to touch her shoulder. "We have to believe in ourselves."

"Thanks, Bob Ross..." Coraline muttered to herself.

"More importantly," Wirt started, "if Wendy is helping you with this she better hurry, it's not like you all have time to waste."

"Heard that," Wendy interrupted, walking in through the back door.

"Did no one ever teach you to knock?" Wirt hissed, turning his head towards her.

"In my house, you lock the door or people come in. With the state of things, you should remember to lock all your doors and windows, anyway."

Gregg- unsettled by the conflict between Wirt and Wendy, as well as being told on by the Gruncles, went back to his room to read away from all the drama.

"I don't need a lecture from-" Wirt started but was cut off by Wendy.

"Got the info, guys, Magnolia came through." Wendy set the copied records on the table, pulling a personal post-it note from the front. "I didn't get too good of a look but something stuck out, big-time. There's a toxicology report in here that tells multitudes."

"Meaning?" Dipper's ears perked, watching her intently as she sat on the floor with crossed legs and a quiet curse as she bumped her knee on the coffee table.

"The victims so far have all been clean in terms of toxicity. _Squeaky_ clean, in fact. The ages are all different, walks of life are different, but the thing they all share is this," she raised her fingers with each she counted off. "No alcohol in their blood, _at all_ , not even a low level you get from using mouthwash. No nicotine, no caffeine. It's _eerie,_ right? It's not just me thinking it?"

"That's... not a coincidence. No way it can be. The chances of that happening are..." Norman stops for a moment, does the math in his head and sighs. "There is a less than _half_ of one percent that this thing managed to pick these victims at random. There's a method to this... But what?"

"This." Coraline pointed, spreading the coroner pages side by side. "Something else. They were all healthy with no serious illness or disabilities, roughly-average weights even for their different heights."

"Maybe it's ritualistic? Like it _has_ to choose certain types of people?" Mabel's eyes widened and she lowered her voice and looked at Wendy with a stern gaze. "This may sound crazy... But what if they're virgins too?"

"Oh my god, please don't say that word in my presence." Dipper whispered in discomfort, much to the mild amusement of the others.

Wendy coughed to supress a laugh.

"I'm serious!" Mabel insisted. "It's the oldest ritual in the _book_. Sacrifice some virgins for the big scary monster, but this thing would have taken it upon itself to scrounge up its sacrifices... But why?"

"Maybe it needs a power-up." Wybie offered, "something like that probably doesn't get the chance to do all this without being noticed."

"Right." Wendy exhaled, slapping her thighs in finality. "I have to get to work. Some of us have real jobs to get to. I'll let you know if anything comes up, you kids be careful."

"I'll walk you out." Wirt muttered, following Wendy out the back door with a fierce rigidity in his posture.

The kids watched the two leave and turned their attention away from their own thoughts for a moment, trying in vain to hear what the two talked about. The room fell quiet only for a few moments before the silence was interrupted by Mabel shuffling through the stack of papers with interest, in hopes of finding information to possibly support her theory. Like that, the spell was broken. Wybie continued to look through the books while Coraline joined Mabel with reading the background checks and coroner reports.

Dipper stood, walking to the front window and sighed, "I need to get my journals. I forgot them between... everything."

"I'll go with you," Norman offered, feeling sick with worry over everything. "I need a break."

"We'll tell Wirt," Coraline assured, "just take your phones. If you aren't back in a couple hours, we'll send out a search party."

"It won't be that long-" Dipper shook his head, pulling on his shoes, securing his phone in his pocket.

"That was her attempt at a joke," Wybie muttered, "better hurry before he finishes talking to Wendy or you may never get out of here."

"Yeah," Norman agreed, putting on his shoes and putting his phone in his hoodie pocket. "Be back soon."

...

They stepped outside and walked towards the Mystery Shack with a heavy silence between them, when walking along the path they noticed a dirt road off to the side, trailing away from the main part of town.

Norman stopped at the edge of the path, transfixed by something he couldn't quite put his finger on. Dipper turned around after already walking several yards ahead and jogged back.

"What's up, Norman?"

"I need to go down this path." Norman told him, looking at Dipper with an odd expression. "There's something I need to see. I can feel it."

Dipper's eyes closed as he exhaled through his nose in exasperation, "See what? All that's back there is a bunch of abandoned cottages, I saw them last time I was here. Most of them were destroyed during Weirdmageddon by a giant robot."

"Dipper," Norman insisted.

"Alright. Lead the way, Ghost Boy." Dipper put his arm out in a mock-bowing gesture before taking stride beside Norman.

The path was overgrown with clovers and vines that made the dirt path nearly invisible, save for the downtrodden earth beneath the foliage. At some point, the trees drew closer and closer together, making the path feel even smaller and more uninviting. The further they walked, the more houses they saw demolished or in desperate need for repairs. At the end of the road was the only house that seemed habitable, faded yellow siding and dark trim hiding underneath years of overgrowth.

The closer they got, the more they realised someone must be living in the home. A few white plastic chairs and a table sat out front, fairly clean. Windows were open with drawn curtains, the lavender cloth flapping in the noontime breeze. Once they had gotten within 5 feet of the home, a door opened, a figure sweeping dirt out onto the lawn.

The figure's head turned up to the sky, shielding their eyes from the brightness and then allowed their eyes to land on the figures of Norman and Dipper walking towards the house. The figure straighted, seeming taller as a grin broke out on their face.

"Oh my lord... Dipper Pines, is that you?" The voice called out with a familiar tone.

"Wait," Dipper's expression contorted into shock. "Gideon!?"


	12. Old Friends, Bookends

"Why, Dipper Pines, I haven't seen you in... gosh, it's been a few years, hasn't it?" Gideon smiled, no malice showing through in his tone or mannerisms. A nice Gideon seemed more unnerving than the Lil' Gideon from those years ago. He had lost weight, gained some muscle, and traded out the cheesy suit for a short sleeved shirt and blue jeans. He had really grown into his sharp face, even though his face still rounded out at the cheeks where his freckles stood out.

"Uh... What are you doing out here?" Dipper asked, discomfort clear on his face.

"Moved out here, not many people forgave me after... everything." Gideon's voice snagged for a moment but he regained his composure quickly. "I doubt you have either, can't blame you. It's good to see you again, though, Dipper Pines."

Gideon's eyes then caught Norman, who was confused and beside himself with the nuances in the conversation.

"I forgot my manners, I'm sorry. My name is Gideon, I'm a bit infamous around this parts. I, uh, triggered the end of the world..." Gideon's laugh was awkward as he shifted his weight from foot to foot, "Well, the end of Gravity Falls at least. To be frank, I was not a good person then. I was a spoiled brat and got away with a lot more than I should've. Luckily, though, the Pines twins put me in my place."

"There is a lot of understatements in there, Gideon. Why are you out here in the middle of the woods? Seriously?" Dipper asked, glancing over his shoulder to notice a seemingly empty house.

"My parents split up soon after you all left. My mom couldn't stand being around me anymore and my dad didn't really want anything to do with me after I used that spell on him when I was in prison-" Gideon gave out a short laugh at seeing the confused look on Norman's face. "Sorry, I'm letting you boys stand while I'm rattling on."

Gideon got an unsure look in his eyes as he looked between Norman and Dipper, opening the front door to the home. "Would you like to come in?"

Norman glanced at Dipper, who took a deep breath before walking inside. The three sat at a mismatched set of three lounge chairs, sitting in silence for a moment before Norman broke the silence.

"So you two obviously have some animosity here, so what happened?"

"I have no ill-feelings towards the Pineses, not anymore, anyhow. I wanted to kill them once, but I was still a child with no grip on my anger and no positive rolemodels to shape my behavior... I've been seeing a therapist, Dipper, don't give me that face. I really have changed. I mean, I have a job at the Northwest mansion as a landscaping hand and because of them I was able to get this house out here and in exchange for working for them. They took responsibility as my guardians until I can live independently in a year."

"You're serious?" Dipper leaned forward, searching Gideon's face.

"As a heart attack, pine tree. Anyway, introduce me, this poor kid is probably hopelessly confused." Gideon turned to Norman (who had long since zoned out since he was excluded from most of the conversation).

"Norman, this is Gideon... It's a long story. Gideon... This is Norman, he's my friend from California."

"So this... 'Weirdmageddon' Dipper and Mabel keeps mentioning, was there seriously a bunch of demons roaming around Gravity Falls?" Norman asked, his curiosity overtaking his decorum.

Gideon's eyebrows shot up, then he exhaled sharply, "They weren't demons, per se. They were more like... inter-dimensional beings. Like, uh, a lump of strong energy that takes the form it wants. I mean, Bill was-"

"Can we not talk about him, please?" Dipper snapped, voice weakened by fear. His fingernails digging unconsciously into the arm of the chair.

"Right, well... The whole thing was a big mess. I kind of started it, or at least was the catalyst. More importantly, though, how's Mabel?"

"Still have a crush on my sister, Lil' Gideon?" Dipper's eyes betrayed a devious lilt when Gideon flushed.

" 'Course not. She was just... Really nice to me back then, despite everything I did. Was wondering how she is." Gideon defended a little too readily, but sincere in his concern.

"She's good, like always... Anyway, have you heard about the animal attacks?" Dipper asked, still holding a nugget of suspicion against Gideon.

Gideon looked genuinely shocked, which took Dipper off-guard, "Has there been another one?"

"If you know about them, why in the hell are you living in the woods alone? Are you crazy?!" Dipper yelled a little too loud, causing Norman to elbow Dipper in the ribs.

"The Northwests offered me a room to stay til it gets taken care of, but I know they'd rather not have me there after Pacifica..."

"Pacifica?"

"She was planning on coming home to visit but she went missing a few months ago, no one knows where she is. She has all but short of being declared dead."

"Wow," Dipper's breath felt like it rattled in his chest.

"Dipper, the time-" Norman pointed out, pointing to a clock on the wall.

"Right, well, uh... I guess it was good to see you, Gideon." Dipper stood, Norman standing shortly after. "Stay inside."

"Right," Gideon laughed. "I have an axe that doesn't take kindly to trespassers. I'll be fine, Dipper Pines."

"Right." Dipper nodded, leaving as Norman waved an awkward goodbye before running up close behind.

"What in the hell was all that?"

"Long story."

"So you keep saying..." Norman whispered under his breath, shoving his fists in his pockets with childlike irritation.

...

They walked back to the main road and Dipper turned his attention back to Norman after he had finished stewing in his thoughts.

"Why did you want to go that way?"

"I didn't _want_ to I had a feeling I _needed_ to."

"I know I haven't talked to you about Bill... But he is the main reason I have nightmares. I constantly worry he'll come back, that it's not over."

"Gideon made it all sound pretty final," Norman shrugged and tried to sound reassuring. "You have nothing to worry about."

"You mean other than the human-slaughtering Beast running around?" Dipper looked sidelong to Norman who laughed nervously in response, hands up in surrender.

"Other than that, yeah." Norman concluded.


	13. Their Eyes Downcast

The walk seemed long. Their conversation was dying out like a campfire, smoldering to ash. Useless dust in the wind.

Dipper walked a step ahead of Norman, keeping his eyes ahead as though creating his own sense of tunnel vision for the task ahead. His footsteps were a little too fast and too heavy, shoes slapping against the concrete road in an unpleasant and uneven rhythm. Norman tried to keep up, his shorter legs forcing him to speed up some just to keep up, his calves burning.

Dipper felt like a new heap of shit had rained down upon him when he reunited with Gideon, who wasn't so little anymore, and possibly no longer as terrible. He remembered the sight of Gideon's unsure gaze; Gideon's self-consciousness that he was much too proud to feel those years ago. Dipper feared what everyone being in Gravity Falls again could mean. What it _would_ mean.

Then again, he reminded himself- McGucket was gone, Pacifica supposedly having gone "missing", and Robbie god-knows-where on tour with his band- reassured him some. Pieces were missing so, even if he feared Bill could strike again, he couldn't without all the needed pieces. There was only 7 of them now. That thought made his mood dampen even more.

He must take care that 7 continue to remain.

 _Add it to the list of crappy things, Dip, it's your responsibility yet again to save others from some big bad,_ Dipper told himself. _At least it's not just me and Mabel against the world anymore..._

Norman's eyes scanned the streets, the town quietly bustling along. Despite walking in the gutters of the street, the two boys were not yelled at to move by people in cars or by people on the sidewalk to step out of the street. They were essentially ignored, occasionally noticed but then overlooked. This unsettled Norman, although he didn't admit it aloud.

Back in Blithe Hollow, the town was probably the same size as Gravity Falls with probably the same amount of niche tourism and yet this town seemed... _Self-absorbed?_ That was the only word Norman could come up with. Everyone seemed to ignore each other, eyes not meeting those outside their small groups. At least in Blithe Hollow they yelled at neighborhood kids to get out of the street, or get off their lawn. In Gravity Falls, there was no real interaction, perhaps due to the feeling that their all hiding one big secret.

 _Hiding Bill, or at least everyone trying to forget him, must be a full-time job,_ Norman thought. _Maybe not, maybe, this is normal,_ _people minding their own business..._

Then, adding that to the unsettled feeling that Dipper seemed to radiate made Norman uneasy. Gideon had seemed nice. He seemed sad, but nice.

Norman could tell he was lonely out there by himself, he knew the look in Gideon's eyes well enough because he saw the same look on his own face sometimes, felt those half-hearted smiles pulling the corners of his mouth. He wondered if Dipper saw those signs in Gideon too. Norman looked back over his shoulder and part of him wished they had stayed a little longer at Gideon's. Talking helps ebb the loneliness for a while, and even if he was being presumptuous (and Gideon wasn't actually sad), it couldn't hurt.

Especially, since there seemed to be bad blood between Gideon and Dipper, he felt out of the loop again and it was just like the "ghost thing" all over again. No one to talk to, being ostracized, and it reminded him of something he hadn't noticed before. There were plenty of ghosts in Gravity Falls, that he'd seen and experienced firsthand, but none of them seemed interested in talking to him. Just like the live townspeople, no one seemed to be in the mood to talk.

"Is everyone always this quiet?" Norman asked Dipper with an uneasy lilt in his voice, "Even the ghosts are... not even looking at me. It's kind of scaring me, Dipper."

Norman makes eye contact with a spirit that seems to be an old man who may have died of suicide, rope marks barely visible on his ghost, following a young girl texting on her phone. The old man made eye contact with Norman, expression of boredom changing to forced disinterest as he turned his eyes away from the boy looking back at him in shock and back to his oblivious granddaughter.

"It's like they are forcing themselves to ignore me, Dipper. This has never happened before, not this much." Norman whispered, putting his hand on Dipper's shoulder tight enough to stop him from walking. "Look around, didn't you go to that diner at least once?"

Dipper nodded, "Lazy Susan works there." Noticing Susan, he waves to her as she sweeps dirt out through the door. She makes eye contact and turns her eyes down to her feet without waving back. "Maybe she just doesn't recognize me. I haven't been back since puberty, I'm sure I changed a lot."

"Does everyone in town know about... Him?" Norman asked, his voice careful.

"To varying degrees," Dipper explained, "some know he's a demon that tried to destroy the Falls, other people are privvy to the fact that he possessed Gideon and me. I will admit they were a lot more... welcoming before we left compared to now. It is a little weird. It might just be the timing, Bill was around when we were and now there's a big dog thing mauling people alive. I'll admit the timing is not great, though it was happening before we got here."

"They probably don't know that." Norman admitted. "You should check on other patterns though, maybe this beast has killed before now. There are a lot of ghosts here, even if they are ignoring me, maybe they worry since I'm with you the beast may try to destroy their spirit."

"It can do that?" Dipper asked, suddenly feeling the need to shake off a chill.

"Well, it can be done, sure. Maybe this thing is smart enough to know how, but that's a big leap. We haven't seen it messing with ghosts so far."

"True." Dipper nodded, "My brain is just all over the place. I'm trying to make connections the best I can, but a lot of my theories are flimsy."

"That's why Coraline and Wybie are gonna look into it." Norman assured, "I'm sure they'll find something, even if it's a long shot."

"We're here." Dipper pointed to the house ahead of them, smaller than the Shack. "I think." They reached the mailbox which read "The Brothers Stan" (matched with a crude doodle of a fez and a 6-fingered hand). Dipper pursed his lips in an unamused expression, "Yeah, it's them."


	14. Gravity Falls Community Radio

_**Episode "Weather": Crosses by Jose Gonzalez**_

* * *

Norman looked at the house once more and suppressed a sigh, taking in the cramped, dusty cabin that looked like it wasn't much more than a waypoint to rest between trips. In truth, that was all it really was- an old house held together by memories and old-fashioned, hardy craftsmanship.

Dipper still stared at the house thoughtfully when Norman broke the silence of the quiet street with a disgruntled tone.

"Wait, why are we going here? The Mystery Shack isn't for several blocks, I thought the whole reason we came out was for your journals." Norman asked, arms subconsciously crossed.

"I do want them," Dipper explained, "but I also want my great uncles to provide some knowledge that only they can. Ford has dealt with supernatural entities for longer than I've been alive, why shouldn't we ask his opinion? Because Wirt doesn't like them?- No offense."

"None taken," Norman responded, eyes catching sight of a figure passing a window on the side of the house. "We should go in."

Dipper knocked on the door, a few heavy footfalls thumping around followed by the frowning expression of Stan, who barely spared a glance before ushering them in.

He sat them at the table, pulling a bar stool from the pantry to sit on for himself. None of the furniture matched, each wood piece a different wood, color, stain, you name it. Even the living room furniture mix-matched beyond excuse for "modern" decor. To the boys, the house looked like a garage sale puked on it. To be fair though, it practically had.

Stan took a bite out of the banana he plucked from the bunch on the table and talked through his food, "Comin fo hep, huh?"

"Yeah," Dipper nodded, eyes watching his great uncle intently. He hadn't seen him for years, sure, but Stan seemed much older than before. He didn't seem to be much of a smiler anymore either. "We wanted to know if you or Gruncle Ford have dealt with anything like this before."

"Well, definitely not me," Stan rolled his eyes, "and who knows what Ford knows. Don't you practically have the journals memorized, why are you asking me?"

"I could only write down what I remembered at the time and most of it was Bill gibberish from a scared kid. Give me a break, okay?" Dipper snapped, "Where's Ford?"

"Think he went to go get groceries, we haven't been at the house in months. Cabinet is as empty as the Pit." Stan finished his banana, throwing the peel away.

"Then where'd you get the banana?" Norman asked, pointing with his thumb at the bunch.

"May or may not have swiped it from the neighbor's grocery delivery, but that's beside the point." he defended. "When Ford gets back, you all should talk about this. I still don't know much about all this stuff, he has years of experience on both of us, kids. Shouldn't be too long now, if you wanna turn on the radio and listen to showtunes... or whatever they play on the radio in this town nowadays."

Dipper shrugged and got up, turning on the radio, "Maybe they'll have another report on the victims, could get some new info."

"Even if it's just speculation of everyone in town leaning on their radio, with their phone in hand." Stan grumbled to himself, "I hope Ford brings some booze back with him."

Norman looked at Stan and felt a weight in his chest. _Dad does that too_ , he thought to himself, _turn to the drink when anything doesn't go his way or doesn't seem easy to handle. Mom is just sad, subdued smiles and meds. Courtney is just absent, physically and emotionally._

 _I get bad too sometimes._ Norman glanced back up at Dipper who was sitting beside him, elbows on his knees and leaning forward listening intently to some local indie band's song as if it held all the answers. _When I get bad, though, I drown myself in my screenplay. Just shut it all down and repurpose my negative feelings for the sake of art. Not exactly the healthiest thing to do, but what else do I have?_

 _Dipper_ , he wondered to himself. _Mabel too... maybe. We'll see._

Once the song finished, a young male voice came on the radio, an odd combination of dated vernacular and a charming childish lilt to his voice.

"Hell-lo Gravity Falls! This is your ear to the ground and the voice to the masses, Tad Cornelius Strange, and here's today's forecast-" the radio chimed, Dipper turning the volume down a moment to look out the window as Ford pulled up the driveway in an old station wagon.

"Guess he's home to talk now," Dipper thought aloud.

"Guess so," Norman replied, suddenly desperate for a drink of water to soothe the uncomfortable lump in his throat.

Ford entered with a curse, bellowing that Stan should have at least held the door if he didn't plan on helping. Once he caught sight of the boys, he seemed slightly embarrassed and his features softened.

"Give me a few minutes, boys."

Dipper returned his hand to the knob of the radio, turning the music up as silence fell in the small house. Ford made trips from the car to inside, swift but focused, lips pinched shut.

They would have to talk about it sooner or later: the folly of throwing the journals into the pit, the bad sense of delving into all of this madness alone, and the tips needed to survive this whole ordeal. Surely, Stan would use choice phrases such as "you nimrods", "touched in the head", and "what were you thinking?". Ford, on the otherhand, would most surely remain quiet for a long time before speaking after Stan. He would be taking his time to explain the dangers while also being firm that they should accept the help of adults, that they should not bear the burden alone. His knowledge did not extend too much further than theirs and that made him even more nervous for the lot of them.

This, of course, would all be followed by Dipper defending himself with just a little too much venom. His fingers would clench and unclench into fists as Norman would offer impartial advice, to take the help offered but only under their conditions so that they could handle it their own way. Dipper would reluctantly agree, while the great-uncles of a boy who used to smile much more often, would only agree because they felt out of viable options. At least the agreement would allow them to be involved to some degree.

After this, the boys would continue on their way and head to their real destination, to collect Dipper's journals. They would walk in silence, sure that they were doing the right thing by bearing this weight alone.

* * *

 ** _A.N._**

 ** _Just looked up Tad and he is voiced by Cecil._** **_My life is changed._**

 ** _-troll voice- Oh my god._**

 ** _-dog voice- What is this- a crossover episode?_**

 ** _-young boy voice- Yes, yes it is._**

 ** _And now, back to your regular programming._**

 ** _Hope you enjoy this chapter's weather._**

 _ **Goodnight, Mystery Kids. Goodnight.**_


	15. Research, Journals, and Creatures-Oh My!

And so it goes. The quiet and conspiratory tones between the four as they sat around the living room. Music a steady drone in the background, as they discussed their plan of action. Near the end of this meeting, as Dipper and Ford had sharp words back at forth at the dangers involved; Dipper with not wanting to involve too many others, and Ford fearing that they were all too young to take the Beast on alone.

Norman received a text from Mabel alerting him something along the lines of how dangerous it is for them to be out alone, even in daylight, so on and so forth. Norman assured her they were safe and would be back in an hour or so. She seemed placated some but not entirely unworried, her choice of words making it obvious even over text. Unsurprising, since the vision of Hyle's warnings were fresh in all their minds. He added that they dropped by to see Stan and Ford, in hopes it would reassure her, despite already sitting in their living room.

Judging by the string of emojis, he figured she was relieved at least to some degree. The faces ranging from skeptical to exasperated, with a few hourglasses in an attempt to emphasize the lack of time they likely had to deal with this problem. He had to give her credit for how well she could express herself just with a string of symbols and facial expressions. He barely followed the conversation between Dipper and his Gruncles, vague references to certain events he wasn't privy to being mentioned on occassion.

He stood up, his knees snapping a bit in protest. The couch was slow to rise from where he had sat, clearly the cause of the difficulty he had getting off the couch. The movement caused Dipper to look at him in understanding.

"Right, well-" Dipper interrupted, standing with some difficulty himself. He glanced at the clock and frowned, he hadn't planned taking this long here. "Norm and I gotta go. Whether or not you agree with us doing this, we're already involved. It's your choice if you want to help us or hinder us. Let us know if you think of anything."

"Sure, kid." Stan interrupted Ford with a sour look. "We'll let you know. We're proud of you, though my brother is too worried about your safety to admit it. I know when things were bad before, I wasn't exactly there when you needed me. I was too preoccupied with the Shack..." His voice tugged a little but he cleared his throat and the weakness in his voice was gone. "Anyway, you and your sister were able to snuff Bill Cipher, this will be a cake walk for you kids. We believe in you, all of you."

Dipper hugged them both, Norman waving awkwardly before whispering so only the Gruncles could hear as Dipper walked ahead to the porch, "I don't have time to explain, but do you two know an old man who may have died in town?" Norman asked, briefly describing the spirit he saw leaving the forest property.

The two shared a look, then Stan shrugged while Ford shook his head. Norman, too distracted by Dipper calling for him, did not question the odd look that passed between them. When he caught up to Dipper, they spoke small-talk, commenting on the passing houses or buildings. Dipper paused mid-sentence to thank Norman for coming along, to admit how relieved he felt to see his Gruncles again and speak to them (relatively) alone. Norman shrugged, as though it was no big deal. Dipper took a deep breath through his nose, pointing to the Shack.

"Might be best if I run in and run out, what with the situation and all." Dipper muttered, still a little bitter at how Soos and Melody were acting. Just because he understood, doesn't mean it was fair, or that he had to like it.

Norman put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed gently, "I'll be here when you get back."

"Right," Dipper nodded, scurrying inside without knocking.

A few minutes passed and as Norman began to feel odd standing less than 20 feet away from the Mystery Shack just staring off intently into the distance, so he sat down on the grass and leaned back on his hands until eventually he laid flat on the ground to watch the clouds. He watched them mindlessly for what could have been minutes or an hour before Dipper's face appeared above his with an amused expression masked by the shadow he was making.

"I wasn't gone that long, was I?" He joked.

"Couldn't say," Norman admitted. "I tuned out. Did you get the journals?"

"Yeah," he nodded, "Guess they weren't home. It's bad of them to leave the doors unlocked, but they could just be avoiding me. It's an awkward situation."

"Sure. Are you ready to start heading back, then?" Norman looked at Dipper with a sense of curiosity when he noticed a flash of something cross his face.

Dipper reached out a hand wordlessly and helped Norman up who absently dusted the grass from his clothes as they began the long trek back. The silence was not awkward, but not without weight, Dipper felt the need to talk less because he got the sense if he talked too much now it would just come out as small talk. He didn't want to have to revert to that, he and Norman were a bit closer than lighthanded small talk, after all.

"So, what is in the journals? You didn't exactly elaborate." Norman asked, his curiosity growing. "I mean, this isn't exactly the best time to take a field trip, you know."

"There's something in here that can help, I'm sure of it. But once I find out which ones are around the time I was here in Gravity Falls before, there may be bits of info from the old journals Ford wrote in there. He travelled dimensions, timelines, and encountered creatures not even mentioned in worldwide folklore they're so obscure."

Dipper stopped walking, turning to face Norman as a car drove past them on the street, causing them to move further in on the sidewalk. A brisk wind began to kick up, giving them a bit of a chill.

"I just need to try, okay? I feel guilty enough not being around my Gruncles and old friends here when I had every opprotunity to come back. Now this whole mess, it kinda feels like my fault, even though I know it isn't."

Norman nodded, "Come on. They're waiting on us. We'll get through this, somehow."

* * *

They arrived at the inn in silence, the dark of night nearly at their doorstop. They walked in to the room in complete disarray. Gregg asleep on the floor next to Wirt who is scrunching his face in displeasure at a laptop. Coraline staring at her tarot cards with a blank look, Wybie with a few books open around him looking between them, and Mabel pushing the book against her face in hopes of absorbing the information by osmosis.

"We're back," the boys announced, met with a collection of groaned hellos.

"Well, the online searching has lead me to nearly every D&D wiki, creepypasta, or fictional character with fur, sharp teeth, and a thirst for blood but none of them seem like our Beast unless I completely missed something." Wirt supplied.

"I'm not getting anything remarkable from the cards," Coraline admitted, "aside from a new appreciation for the handpainted artwork on the cards."

"All I have is a headache," Mabel whined, "I'm gonna need reading glasses after all this. I feel like my eyes aged 50 years."

"Well, I have it narrowed down to at least 7 creatures. Good news is that cross-referencing these will narrow it down further. Bad news, that's still a lot more time we would be devoting to figuring out what this thing is and not getting rid of it." Wybie leaned back, popping his knuckles.

"Well, what are they? I can check my journals and see if anything lines up." Dipper pulled off his bag excitedly, sitting on the floor and spreading them out in front of him.

Wybie sighed, looking at a piece of paper where he wrote names, book titles, and page numbers down. "The ones that seemed most likely were: werewolf, amarok, chupacabra, fenrir, kludde, nandi bear, skinwalker. I mean there could be even more not in these books."

"A lot of those don't sound native to the United States." Mabel sighed, "But who's to say whether they travel for food or not. This sucks."

"No kidding," Wirt muttered, "Norman, you and Dipper keep looking, I think the rest of us all need a break from this madness. Come help yourself to dinner in a little while."

He stood up slowly and picked up Gregg, taking him to bed while the others went to the kitchen. Dipper and Norman shared a look before splitting the stack of journals in half and beginning to read. It was going to be a long night. They just hoped there wouldn't be any more dead bodies while they tried to find the solution.


End file.
